The Hollowlands did not welcome us with open arms. It welcomed us with a pothole so deep it nearly launched me into the stratosphere.
"Oof," I grunted as the wagon slammed back down, my teeth clacking together. "I'm going to need a chiropractor. And then I'm going to need a lawyer to sue the road."
We had finally crossed the border. The vibrant forests of the Empire had given way to a landscape that looked like it was suffering from clinical depression. The trees were gray, the grass was yellow, and the sky hung low and heavy, like a wet wool blanket.
"This is it," Sir Gerrick said, pulling his horse alongside the wagon. He sounded grim. "The domain of Oakhaven. Your... land."
I stood up on the wagon, steadying myself on a crate of iron, and looked out at my new property.
I blinked.
"Gerrick," I said slowly. "Where is it?"
"We are in the town square, my Lord."
I looked left. I looked right.
There was a muddy path. There was a cow looking at me with deep existential dread. And there were about six shacks held together by mud, prayers, and what looked like dried spit.
"This is a town?" I asked. "I've seen beaver dams with better urban planning."
"It has been... neglected," Gerrick admitted, his hand resting on his sword pommel. "The previous Lord died of a fever three years ago. The people have drifted away."
"Drifted away? It looks like they were raptured."
I hopped off the wagon. My boots sank an inch into the mud. Expensive dragon-leather, ruined. Tragedy.
"Take me to the Manor," I commanded. "Surely the seat of power is in better shape than... whatever this architectural crime scene is."
Gerrick didn't say anything. He just pointed up the hill.
I looked up.
At the top of a craggy rise stood the 'Manor'.
It was a stone structure. I use the term 'structure' loosely. It was more of a suggestion of a building. The west wing had collapsed entirely. The roof looked like Swiss cheese. And—I squinted—yes, there was a literal tree growing out of what I assumed was the master bedroom.
"Ah," I nodded. "Open concept. Very modern."
"It's a ruin, Caelus," Gerrick sighed, sounding tired. "We should set up camp in the courtyard. Sleeping inside is a death trap."
"Nonsense," I adjusted my coat, flicking a speck of dust from my lapel. "I see potential. And by potential, I mean a massive safety hazard that I am legally responsible for. Let's go."
The courtyard was overgrown with weeds that reached my waist. As we approached the main doors—one of which was hanging off its hinges—an old man stumbled out.
He was dressed in a butler's uniform that had likely been stylish fifty years ago. Now, it was moth-eaten and stained. He looked like a stiff breeze would turn him into dust.
"Halt!" the old man squeaked, holding up a rusty garden hoe. "Who goes there? This is the property of the Drakenhof family! Begone, bandits!"
Gerrick stepped forward, his armor clanking. "Stand down, old man. This is Lord Caelus von Drakenhof. The new Lord of the Hollowlands."
The old man froze. He squinted at me. He looked at my silver hair. He looked at my glowing blue eyes.
Then he dropped the hoe and fell to his knees, sobbing.
"A Lord! A real Lord!" he wailed, clutching my muddy boots. "I knew you would come! I am Silas! The steward! I have held the fort! I have kept the candles lit!"
I looked down at him.
[Name: Silas (Steward)]
[Level: 3 (Civilian)] [Loyalty: 100 (Fanatical)]
[Status: Malnourished, Arthritis, Severe hope deficiency.]
"Get up, Silas," I said, peeling him off my leg. "You're getting mucus on the leather. And 'held the fort' is a generous description. I think the fort actually surrendered a decade ago."
"My Lord!" Silas scrambled up, wiping his eyes. "Please, come in! The Great Hall is... mostly dry!"
We walked inside.
The Great Hall was impressive, in the same way a shipwreck is impressive. The floor was cracked. The chandelier was missing. There were bird nests in the rafters.
I activated [The Omniscient Builder].
The room exploded into data.
[Structure: Lord's Manor (Grade E-)] [Durability: 12% (Critical)] [Stability: 15%] [Flaws Detected: 4,892]
Foundation Sinking (North Corner)
Termite Infestation (Main Beams)
Load Bearing Wall (Missing)
Ghost Infestation (Attic - harmless but annoying)
"Fantastic," I muttered. "I have 4,000 problems and I haven't even had lunch."
"My Lord?" Silas asked nervously. "Shall I prepare the Master Suite?"
"Silas," I pointed to the ceiling where the sky was clearly visible. "If it rains, the Master Suite becomes the Master Pool. No. Bring me a chair. A sturdy one. Place it right there."
I pointed to the center of the hall, the only spot where the floor stones weren't heaving.
Silas scurried off and returned with a dusty, velvet throne-like chair.
I sat down. I crossed my legs. I rested my chin on my fist, channeling my inner anime villain.
"Gerrick," I said.
"What?" The knight was looking at the rotting tapestries with disgust.
"Bring in the materials. All of them. The mortar, the timber, the iron. Dump them in the courtyard."
"Now?" Gerrick frowned. "Caelus, it's getting dark. We need to secure a perimeter."
"I am securing the perimeter. Do it."
Gerrick grumbled but went to shout orders at the guards.
I closed my eyes and focused.
In most Kingdom Building novels, the MC gets a 'Territory Core' or a 'Dungeon Heart' that does the magic for them. I looked around. There was no glowing crystal.
Wait.
I looked at the floor beneath my chair. My [Builder] vision showed a faint, golden line running through the stone, pulsing like a vein.
"Silas," I asked. "Is there a basement?"
"The crypts, My Lord?" Silas shivered. "We don't go down there. The rats... they are the size of dogs."
"Perfect. I've always wanted a pet."
I stood up. "Move the chair."
Beneath the chair was a rug. Beneath the rug was a stone trapdoor.
I tried to lift the iron ring.
I pulled. My face turned red. A vein popped in my forehead.
[Strength Check Failed.] [You need Strength 5 to lift this. You have Strength 6. Wait... sticking mechanism requires Strength 8.]
"Dammit," I panted, letting go. "Gerrick! Come open this door! It's... stuck! I don't want to get my gloves dirty!"
Gerrick walked over, rolled his eyes, and lifted the heavy stone slab with one hand. Show off.
A dank, musty smell wafted up.
"Stay here," I ordered.
"You're going down there alone?" Gerrick asked, surprised. "With your combat ability? The rats will eat you."
"I have this." I pulled out a pouch of spicy pepper powder I had raided from the kitchen supplies. "Chemical warfare. Besides, I need to commune with the house."
I descended the spiral stairs. It was dark, but my [Celestial Gaze] gave me low-light vision.
At the bottom of the stairs, in a small circular room, sat a pedestal. On it was a stone cube, cracked and grey.
[Territory Core (Dormant)] [Owner: None] [Status: Offline]
I walked up to it. I placed my hand on the cold stone.
"System," I whispered. "Claim."
[Mana Detected.] [Verifying Bloodline... House Drakenhof confirmed.] [Booting Up Territory Management Interface...]
VROOOM.
A shockwave of blue energy blasted out from the stone, blowing my hair back. The dust in the room vanished.
[Territory: Oakhaven claimed.] [Lord: Caelus von Drakenhof]
[Current Population: 7] (Me, Gerrick, Silas, 4 Guards). [Public Order: 10/100 (Anarchy)] [Treasury: 0 Gold] [Food: 3 Days]
[Unique Skill 'The Omniscient Builder' interacting with Core...]
[Blueprint Mode Unlocked.]
Suddenly, the dank basement disappeared. I was standing in a void, looking at a 3D glowing blue model of the Manor. It was like The Sims, but with higher stakes and better graphics.
A menu floated to my right.
[Repair Wall (Cost: 50 Stone, 10 Mana)]
[Reinforce Gate (Cost: 20 Iron, 5 Mana)]
[Build Turret (Locked)]
I grinned. The smile was wide, manic, and terrifyingly handsome.
"Oh," I chuckled. "I am going to have so much fun."
I selected the [West Wing Roof].
[Repair?] [Materials Required: 200 Timber. (Available in Courtyard)] [Mana Cost: 50]
"Execute."
Upstairs, Gerrick was drinking water from a canteen, trying to ignore Silas who was currently dusting a pile of rubble.
RUMBLE.
The floor shook.
"Earthquake?" Gerrick drew his sword.
"Look!" Silas screamed, pointing out the window.
Outside, in the courtyard, the stack of timber logs I had brought began to glow blue. They levitated into the air, spinning. Then, they flew toward the roof like heat-seeking missiles.
BAM. BAM. BAM.
With a sound like rapid-fire carpentry, the logs slammed into place. Planks knitted themselves together. Shingles flew from the debris pile and reattached themselves.
In ten seconds, the gaping hole in the roof was gone. It was sealed, watertight, and looked brand new.
Gerrick dropped his canteen. Silas fainted.
I walked up the stairs, dusting off my hands, looking slightly pale (50 Mana was a chunk), but looking immensely smug.
"Gerrick," I said, stepping into the now not-drafty hall.
Gerrick stared at me, his eyes wide. "What... what did you do? That was High Magic! Grandmaster level construction magic! You... you're mana crippled!"
"I told you," I walked past him and sat back on my velvet throne. I crossed my legs and rested my cheek on my hand.
"I'm an architect. I just happen to have a very aggressive management style."