The forest was quiet, save for the hum of insects and the slow rustle of wind through leaves that didn't belong to any tree back on Earth. Somewhere in the canopy, something chattered in a language made of hisses and guttural clicks, but it didn't approach. It didn't need to. The beasts nearby—Bront and Moro—were more than enough deterrent for anything short of a fully grown wyvern.
He had two kinds of knowledge. Neither was particularly helpful. Well, it was helpful—just that he didn't have the skills to put it to use yet.
From Earth, he had various tips and tricks. As a first-generation Haitian whose parents forced him and his siblings to the poorer side of Haiti every summer, the boys quickly learned how to build anything from anything.
He remembered vague survival documentaries and half a season of Man vs. Wild. He also remembered being poor, rural, and without reliable cable. When the internet went out, he'd been stuck watching Channel 3 and the History Channel on repeat—so while he could explain why the Mongols had superior saddles, he couldn't tell poison ivy from salad.
Right away.
"Why did that old fart even hate my guts anyway? Sending me… Did those motherfuckers even know this place?" Jaxon muttered, trying to remember what exactly was out here.
Emperor Vallamir II, son of Vallamir I, was a ludicrous and forgetful, yet dangerous and warmongering king of the Vallotton Empire. He wanted to expand his empire to other realms. Technically, the Vallotton Empire was the V Empire of the known world.
The planet had thirteen Empires spread across multiple supercontinents, all named after a number that matched their place of power. The V Empire was unique, as it was the only one where multiple races could rise to high positions of power—if they were strong enough.
Sure, there was slavery, corruption, elitism, racism, Americanism—but no empire was perfect. The Vireaux domain sat near the entrance to the Norzelia lands, its landscape filled with beautiful green plains and even greener fields. Beyond the open lands were wild forests, marshlands, swamps, and the numerous lakes and rivers that gave way to Norzelia's northern mountains.
Technically, the Vireaux domain was extremely rich in resources due to how little it had been developed. Normally, controlling Vireaux would be a tremendous boon to anyone. The land was fertile, vast, and easily defendable from the north.
Terra was fifty times larger than Earth, giving it a surface area of approximately 2,550 billion square kilometers. Its population was 100 times larger as well, meaning around 800 billion people lived on Terra.
This number fluctuated daily. For many reasons—and the reason Vireaux wasn't being occupied by a more competent lord—one word explained it:
Dungeons.
Dungeons were pockets of the chaos world that connected to the mortal world through Gates.
Gates were magical portals that bridged the gap between the mortal world and the enigmatic realms known as "Dungeons."
Dungeons generally housed hordes of monsters, usually led by a boss, and remained open until the boss was killed. Once the boss was slain, the Dungeon core could be claimed.
To minimize human casualties, a Dungeon had to be cleared within three months. If it wasn't, it would undergo a "Dungeon Break," allowing the monsters to pour into the mortal world and attack civilian populations.
These Dungeons and Gates appeared everywhere—89% of them still unknown to mankind. Given that natural monsters already roamed Terra, Dungeon Breaks were so common that most people didn't even bother searching for Gates far from civilization due to the excessive monster populations. There was a benefit, however, to keeping Gates open.
Gates were distinct blue portals that could appear anywhere—on cliffsides, in abandoned towns, even in cities.
Clearing a dungeon halted the mana flow, stabilizing the Gate. The resources inside the dungeon were far greater than anything found on Terra. Any Empire or Kingdom that controlled a ranked Dungeon would gain massive wealth. And having an open Gate brought even greater benefits.
Open Gates released pure mana into the world—a supercharged natural energy that radiated from anything magical, including Knights, Monsters, and the Gates themselves.
Mana was not native to the mortal world. It came from the Abyss—a realm of infinite mana. The flow of mana into the mortal world through the Gates was what caused people to awaken and become Knights (this world's version of adventurers). As it integrated into their bodies, it granted them supernatural abilities. Once someone awakened, the mana fortified their body so thoroughly that conventional weapons could hardly harm them. Even the weakest Knight was significantly more durable than any normal human.
Mana was also found in inanimate objects inside dungeons—like Mana Crystals and Mana Salt. After the Gates began appearing, people discovered these items could be used as clean, long-lasting power sources. That breakthrough led to the rise of mana-fueled magical technology.
Mana Crystals came in many forms—ore, gas, liquid, and raw energy—but it was most commonly used in its liquid state, stored in specialized containers. Mana powered nearly everything on Terra: runes, weapons, farming equipment, transportation. It was the default fuel of war, technology, and civilization.
Mana Salt, despite the name, was a metal ore pressurized by mana. It was forged into specialized weapons and tools, often used by Knights or installed in war machines. For reasons still unknown to scientists and mages, it wasn't used in standard construction unless the intent was to build barriers, wards, or enchanted walls.
This was expensive—prohibitively so. Only the most strategically important locations in the V Empire used it.
Vireaux's problem was that it was too rich in mana, resulting in an overwhelming monster population. The natural monsters in the region weren't powerful enough to warrant an empire-wide extermination, but they were strong enough to keep settlers and developers away.
Vireaux was also plagued by bandits, raiders, and criminals. The domain contained the highest number of unconfirmed Gates in the entire V Empire. Establishing a base here meant taking massive losses before you even started.
Monsters were addicted to mortal flesh, attacking with the frenzy of a starving man at an all-you-can-eat buffet.
"Can I just run away?" Jaxon muttered again, thinking about ditching Vireaux altogether. It wasn't worth the trouble. The first sign something was deeply wrong was how crowded the place was—crowded with monsters.
Especially when he spent days trying to find the right clearing. He wasn't good at reading maps—never had been. And the inventory—thank the gods the Emperor didn't send him out completely helpless—was full of things he barely knew how to use. He sucked at reading maps.
The first few weeks were brutal. Even with a knife scavenged from a dead bandit, a salvaged short sword, and his two beasts, there were no shortcuts. Food wasn't always available. Storms were frequent. He learned to wrap bark around his boots to keep them from falling apart, to patch wounds with boiled moss and spirit sap, and to read the skies for mana surges—because magic storms hit harder than blizzards.
He found Haven Outcrop early. The System had flagged it, but it still took time to clear it. Time to claim it.
The second red flag was the constant monster attacks. Most of the creatures were species he'd never seen before. As the Baron of Vireaux Borderlands, he should have received all monster reports, all criminal records. But past the first week… nothing. No bestiary entries. No scouting updates. No notice of the new breeds appearing. No mention of the gangs.
The reason for this cloak-and-dagger nonsense didn't put Jaxon's mind at ease: the Knight-Commander of the Royal Knights hated him. That Knight-Commander was an Arisen.
The Arisen were an elite order entrusted by the Emperor himself with absolute authority—including power over life and death in the Empire. They were composed of multiple species and answered to no laws, no bureaucracy, and no hesitation.
They could go anywhere. Do anything. Order anyone—even an orphan baron like him—to suicide missions. As a noble of the Empire, he had to obey. Whether he wanted to or not.
The final straw—the one that snapped the spine of his patience—was the absurd number of territories he had to claim in just two years.
Vireaux was divided into twelve territories, each with its own unique ecosystem. One of them was even a desert.
Aries, Taurus, Gemini, Cancer, Leo, Virgo, Libra, Scorpio, Sagittarius, Capricorn, Aquarius, and Pisces.
Each was ruled by different factions—criminals, raiders, gang lords. He only had information on one: the Honda Tribe, led by Avlora Honda, known bandit queen and nightmare.
It was unclear when the tribe formed. Avlora Honda, daughter of the previous leader Jackel Honda, had been raised among thieves and killers.
The tribe survived by raiding villages and stealing supplies. Their attacks attracted monsters, who then killed whatever remained. The tribe was at its most dangerous when it forced others to fight for survival.
Under her leadership, they evolved. Extortion replaced random raids. Her philosophy? Survival of the fittest. Her tribe respected only strength.
Avlora was a Berserker Knight—deadly fast. Too fast to follow. She wielded a massive greatsword named Breaker Destruction, and she fought in a brutal, lightning-fast variant of Iaido. The more damage she took, the stronger she became.
Jaxon looked down at the report. Her profile described her as a tall, pale-skinned young woman with red eyes and thick black hair. She wore a black and red kimono top, a pleated skirt over armored shorts, and red-splattered gauntlets. Her boots were reinforced, her stance solid, her presence lethal.
She was perfect.
Jaxon smirked to himself.
Looks like he just found his way out of being a baron.