The Emperor's Awakening
Lucian Drake was utterly devastated.
The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes wasn't his own room—but a grand, gilded ceiling painted with scenes of dragons and phoenixes locked in eternal dance. Silken curtains rippled with a faint breeze, and faint traces of sandalwood incense hung in the air.
A chill crept down his spine.
He sat up abruptly, realizing something was terribly off. The silk sheets under his hands were far too soft, and the bed beneath him—a massive, gold-inlaid King-size bed—wasn't his.
When the memories hit, they struck like lightning.
He had somehow crossed into another world. And not just that—he'd taken over the body of an emperor named Lucian Drake. Same name. Same age. Same face.
For a second, he was silent. Then he groaned.
"…You've got to be kidding me."
Sure, it sounded nice—becoming an emperor overnight. But this world was nothing like the peaceful one he came from. Here, nations rose and fell like waves in a storm. Martial artists walked the earth like demigods, their strength enough to crush armies, their tempers sharp as their blades.
This was a world ruled by power—by Mana, steel, and blood.
Dozens of countries existed, each hungry for land and dominance. Empires clashed endlessly, and banners were raised and burned faster than history could record them.
They said that in this world, the average lifespan of a dynasty was no more than twenty years. Twenty years—and the crown would roll again.
And emperors?
They often didn't even live long enough to see their own statues carved.
Lucian exhaled shakily. "So, I'm sitting on a powder keg."
Indeed—he was now the newly enthroned ruler of a Minor Kingdom, one surrounded by wolves.
Beyond the borders, great nations like the Ironforge Kingdom eyed his lands with greed, waiting for the first sign of weakness. Within his walls, the noble clans fattened themselves on taxes, choking the people while pretending loyalty.
The Imperial Court was a viper's nest of flattery and deceit. Ministers bowed deeply by day, then plotted treason by candlelight. The martial world outside was no better—bandits carved mountains into their own private fiefdoms, their blades drinking freely from travelers and soldiers alike.
And he—this "emperor"—was the unlucky fool caught in the middle of it all.
Lucian's expression darkened. "This start is really too damn hard."
The only thing keeping the kingdom from collapsing overnight was the lingering authority his so-called "late father" had left behind. If not for that, Lucian might've already considered running for his life.
He raked a hand through his black, shoulder-length hair. The faint reflection in the polished bronze mirror showed a young man with striking purple eyes—calm on the surface, storming underneath.
Then, a sound echoed in his mind—clear, mechanical, impossible.
Ding!
Congratulations, player. Your Empire Forging Map Game System is now online!
Lucian froze. "…Wait, what?"
Before he could even process the words, streams of light poured through his consciousness. Information unfolded in his mind like a digital scroll.
His confusion turned to stunned disbelief. "No way… this is the Empire Forging Map Game I used to play before I transmigrated!"
He could barely contain his excitement. "And it came with me? Mutated, even? Hah! My golden finger has arrived!"
Back on Earth, the Empire Forging Map Game was a deep simulation where players expanded their empires by managing resources, armies, and diplomacy. Every choice mattered. Every move reshaped the world.
But this time, something had changed.
The system had projected itself into reality. Everything—the management, the growth, the expansion—was now real.
And there was one terrifyingly powerful new feature: the stronger the nation became, the stronger he would become too.
Lucian's pulse quickened. His mind was racing now, already picturing possibilities.
Ding!
Player, your current identity is Emperor of the Drake Kingdom. Would you like to bind to the current nation, Drake Kingdom?
He didn't even hesitate. "Yes!"
Ding!
Binding successful. The player's strength will now synchronize with the national power of the Drake Kingdom.
Reward: Origin Tier — Primal Level Mana!
A moment later, a wave of force burst within him like a storm unleashed. His veins hummed with energy, his muscles tightened, and his spirit expanded outward as though the entire palace had grown smaller around him.
He gasped as power surged through his body—untamed, pure, alive.
The air around him shimmered faintly, distorted by invisible pressure.
Lucian clenched his fist, feeling that unbelievable strength pulsing at his command. The fragile body of a powerless emperor was gone.
He could sense Mana coursing through his meridians like liquid light, breaking through barriers he hadn't even known existed. In a single breath, he had crossed the line from the Mortal Tier into the Origin Tier—a realm reserved for true cultivators.
The realization struck him like thunder.
He stood there for a moment, trembling—not from fear, but from exhilaration. Then, slowly, a grin spread across his lips.
"I'm… an Origin Tier master now," he whispered, voice low and thrilled. Then he laughed, head tilting back. "Hah! An emperor and an Origin cultivator—this world might finally have to take me seriously."
And so, beneath the faint glow of dawn slipping through the silk curtains, the young emperor sat on his Imperial bed, eyes blazing with purpose.
For the first time since he'd awakened in this world, Lucian Drake felt truly alive.