Barnett stretched his back and then felt a tinge of relief that he was in Northern Europe—after all, in such bitter cold parasites and the like would hardly survive. If he had traveled just a bit farther south, he’d be in a temperate climate, where fleas, bedbugs, lice, and so on thrived… the thought alone made his scalp tingle.

  However, none of that really mattered much to Barnett—at least, not right now. What mattered most was how to increase his own power, even though the System Sprite had not offered any lines like “How do you get back to the modern world?” or “What counts as victory?” or “If you don’t work hard, the Great System will destroy you!”

  But Barnett knew that this was no time to rex.

  Medieval Europe was abze with war. And this is another world—identical to Earth in every way, except for one thing: the famous historical figures of this era were all mixed up. Just now, Barnett had spent sixty seconds of his own lifespan asking the System Sprite about the current political situation on the Continent—and what he heard had utterly drained him, sent shivers down his spine.

  According to the Gregorian calendar (which would not be introduced until centuries ter), this was precisely the first millennium—March of the year 1000 AD. At this moment, the Vikings’ outward expansion was almost complete: all of Engnd, Scandinavia, and the Baltic coast should have been Viking territory. Barnett’s choice to begin as a Viking had been guided by exactly that consideration.

  Yet in this game world, things were different.

  Barnett now found himself in what would ter be Norway—Biyade y on Norway’s western shore; to the south was the great power of Denmark; to the north stretched the endless Dark Forest; to the west y the future Atntic Ocean, across which the isnd of Engnd floated; to the east, again, the boundless Dark Forest. With his current strength, Barnett could not expand in any direction—north, south, east, or west.

  But that was not what troubled him most. What troubled Barnett most was the piece of information he had just heard from the System Sprite—an almost shattering revetion: the name of a man who should never have existed in this age.

  “The Duke who invaded the British Isles recently has died, leaving Norway leaderless. And the current king of neighboring Sweden is Gustav II,” Kirby said offhandedly to Barnett.

  “Dear Kirby, are you sure you’re not mistaken? You mean the legendary ‘Lion of the North,’ Gustavus Adolphus?” Barnett asked, his face a mask of shock. After all, as a professor of political science and economics, he had studied modern history thoroughly; he could recall every notable figure of Europe’s early modern era.

  “Absolutely!”

  “The one credited with inventing linear tactics, cartridge ammunition, and three-rank volleys—Gustavus Adolphus, the Great?”

  “Absolutely!”

  “Gustavus Adolphus, who, alongside Alexander the Great and Napoleon Bonaparte, ranks among the three greatest military geniuses of the Continent?!”

  “Absolutely! That’s him.”

  Barnett’s voice trembled as he whispered, “By my recollection, Gustavus Adolphus lived in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries—yet this is only the turn of the first millennium. He’s off by several hundred years! How can he appear in this era? Are Alexander and Napoleon here, too?”

  Kirby was about to answer, but Barnett interrupted himself: “Never mind them—tell me the situation in Engnd right now. If possible, I wouldn’t mind following these Vikings to conquer Engnd. Perhaps founding a United-States-of-Great-Britain Empire will be my task.”

  “Very well,” Kirby replied. “In the Celtic nds—what you now call Irend and Wales—the king is Arthur. Most of Engnd is ruled by Alfred the Great. There is no dominant ruler in Scotnd, though there is a folk hero named William Walce…”

  “Can you be any more misleading?” Barnett roared. “William Walce is just a peasant—hardly a threat. King Arthur is only a legend; I don’t care about him. And Alfred the Great—he’s the terror who drove Vikings screaming from Engnd at the height of their power! Why did Norway’s duke have to die? You want me to go straight up against Alfred the Great? You’re trying to kill me!”

  Barnett knew his own limitations: although he had the System as a “golden finger,” his territory was too small, his popution too few, and he cked strategic depth and endurance. Others could afford to lose battles; he could not.

  “Tch—what good is yelling at me? But what about the south? According to the System settings, Denmark is the suzerain of many Viking tribes. If you manage your realm well—conquer the other Viking tribes and slip the Pope some silver—you can expand both territory and popution,” the System Sprite counseled.

  “Hm—still, isn’t it a problem that so many powerful future figures have been pced in this world? If they csh here, we might see a ‘First World War’ centuries too soon,” Barnett fretted.

  “Who knows?” the Sprite replied, cking any modesty. “Incidentally, Denmark has no particurly strong king right now. You might consider them.” Kirby sounded devilishly amused.

  “Oh…” Despite himself, Barnett gloomily asked, “Then who is Denmark’s monarch now?”

  “It’s Queen Margaret I. On your Earth, she had no great feats except uniting all of Scandinavia—Denmark, Norway, and Sweden—and founding the Kalmar Union.”

  At that, Barnett colpsed from his chair with a thud, his head striking the floor; he passed out instantly.

  “Oh no—the leader has fainted!” The captain of Barnett’s guard panicked. They’d found their commander sitting dazed for almost an hour, then topple forward for no apparent reason.

  Guards rushed in, carried Barnett to his bed; some ran to fetch a shaman, others a priest, while still others applied crude field treatments—spping him repeatedly with steel-gauntleted hands.

  After a few minutes, Barnett suddenly bolted upright. His sharp, hawk-like eyes swept the room; his thin, swordlike brows narrowed into a menacing gre. The guards recoiled in fear.

  “Everyone, out!” Barnett roared. The guards scattered, the one who’d spped him crawling off in shame. Alone now, Barnett seized his Viking battle-axe and cleaved a hole through the wooden wall—revealing the bitter Scandinavian wind, which rushed in. Only then did he calm himself.

  “By the way—shall I continue telling you about the rulers on the Continent?” the System Sprite’s voice chimed again.

  “No need. It’s irrelevant. I have no one among those terrifying powerhouses I can handle. I won’t listen further,” Barnett said coldly.

  “Really? Why not?” the Sprite asked.

  “I’ll listen when I’m ready to face them. Too much now might give me a heart attack,” Barnett replied matter-of-factly.

  “Ah, it seems you’ve recovered. No wonder—you are but one among countless petty Viking chieftains. They are leagues above you. You must be pragmatic and steady. Never be rash; advance step by step,” the Sprite said piously.

  “Hmph.” Barnett neither confirmed nor denied, simply grunted. “All right—then tell me the test situation—just the recent developments.”

  “Recent?”

  The holographic map reappeared before Barnett.

  “This is the map of a two-hundred-square-kilometer area centered on your town.”

  “…Uh, it’s too small,” Barnett said.

  “Indeed, it is too small,” the Sprite agreed.

  “Your tribe numbers barely over five thousand—though that makes you one of the rger tribes around. If you have the will to push south, you might earn the Danish queen’s favor and be granted the title of Viscount. Besides, with this System’s help, your military force already numbers over a thousand warriors, all well–equipped and decently trained. Your Command skill is at Three Stars. Conquering the surrounding small tribes one by one should pose no problem. Go for it—I believe in you, Professor.”

  No sooner had Kirby finished when a prompt box fshed on Barnett’s HUD:

  “You have received your first quest—please review it.”

  Barnett opened it and read:

  “Having entered a chaotic Middle Ages, have you resolved to overcome all obstacles, crush every foe, and ascend to the pinnacle of power? But first, strengthen your domain. You must at least achieve the rank of Count.”

  Quest Name: Warlord’s Ambition;Objective One: Conquer twelve tribes near your own.Objective Two: Raise your popution to 20,000.Objective Three: Build a true city.Objective Four: Expand your army to 2,000.

  “Um…” Barnett hesitated.

  “Any questions?” Kirby asked.

  “Well…this Quest lists objectives but no rewards,” Barnett ventured.

  “Objectives are unordered. Completing any one grants an XP upgrade to any unit of your choice. Upon completing all objectives, you may select two town buildings to upgrade—and you will receive 10,000 gold coins.”

  Seeing that, Barnett finally felt some relief. Though the System Sprite could be untrustworthy—and enjoyed mischief—when it came to generosity, it was indeed vish. Once these quests were done, his power base would be firmly established.