Build the Kingdom

Chapter 2: You Can't Just Leave (2)

Pandemonium Kingdom Calendar Year 11.

"Ten years have passed."

The moment Hu blew up the fortress was in Year 1 of the Pandemonium Kingdom Calendar.

It was an era that could be called the founding period.

That was when the four heroes, excluding Hu, built the kingdom.

"I didn’t."

Hu had poured all his efforts into strengthening the core rather than the kingdom itself. He believed that something else was more important than the mere name of a kingdom.

But the other heroes didn’t think the same.

Pandemonium was the name of a kingdom built by one of those traitors.

Therefore, the mention of Year 11 of the Pandemonium Kingdom Calendar meant that ten years had passed since the moment of the first round.

It had been ten years since Hu's self-destruction.

"Ha."

How much had developed in those ten years? There was no way to know right now.

However, since Marcus Rader knew of the country called Pandemonium and used that kingdom’s calendar, there was one certainty.

"The continent’s order has been reorganized."

It meant that the bastards who gave up returning and chose this place had ultimately become the core holding the power of [God Hand].

Would it be just Pandemonium? Other kingdoms must have also taken root in the world of [God Hand] in the same way.

"Just wait a little longer."

"I'm coming."

"Yes?"

Ignoring Rader’s response to his muttering, Hu lifted his head and turned his gaze.

A small plot of land, just a few pyeong wide.

A shabby hut where, if four grown men went inside, they’d probably be close enough to smell each other's sweat.

Two serfs.

One was Marcus Rader, who served as an advisor, and the other was an old man who looked like he might need a funeral in a day or two.

"Cough, cough. Lord Landowner’s orders..."

"Rest."

With those words, Hu stood on the ground.

"Lord Landowner?"

Rader called out from behind him, but Hu ignored him. Advice from an early-stage advisor could be crucial, but in this situation, it was completely useless.

"First of all..."

There was no need to think hard about where to begin.

[God Hand] outwardly presented itself as a farming simulation game. The start was all about growing crops.

Regardless of the ten years or anything else, to tear through adversity, one had to stand up first.

Hu looked around.

He saw a small area surrounded on all sides by black fog. There was no way to interact with other farms in this situation.

For now, there was nothing else to do but farm.

But that didn’t mean he had any intention of just tilling the soil aimlessly.

"Rader."

"Yes."

"How much food and water do we have?"

Normally, Marcus Rader would explain everything, and Hu would listen. But Hu already knew it all.

He just needed to demand and hear what was necessary.

"…We can last two months."

Two serfs and one landowner—three mouths to feed.

No use hoping for jerky or anything fancy. Most likely, it was just flour and some dried fruit.

Realizing the situation made the hardship ahead all the more clear. Eating, sleeping, and relieving oneself would be a war of its own.

That’s why—

"I should get the hardship over with early."

If he built a solid foundation now, things would be easier later.

"Lord Landowner, first, we need to plant seeds—"

"Shh."

Cutting off the advisor from fulfilling his role, Hu thought carefully. Planting, germination, and harvesting were the goals.

That was the early objective of [God Hand].

As for the seeds on hand, of course—

"Low-grade seeds, no doubt."

He grabbed a handful of soil from the field and smelled it. It was raw and sour.

"Not even good soil."

To get good output, high-grade seeds needed to be planted in fertile soil.

With land like this, less than half would grow properly. Well, it was just the beginning. In this state, it was expected.

With low-grade crops, even if you planted one, getting two in return was the best outcome.

Many seeds would die. If you planted ten, about half would perish.

The output compared to the input was disastrous.

"That won’t do."

Growing like that would make him just like everyone else.

If he kept pace with others, he would be stuck in place forever.

Of course, everyone started that way—slowly, growing one stalk of wheat at a time.

But doing that, when would he finally catch up and grab the head of those ahead?

Hu rolled up his sleeves. The rough touch of coarse fabric reminded him of his current level.

He knelt on one knee and placed his palm on the ground. He tried to feel the warmth of the soil.

[God Hand] wasn’t just about five heroes. There was always someone exceptional in every field.

FisherKing, the Farming King.

If he worked the land, there was always a bountiful harvest.

Though it all eventually fell apart.

"That bastard once said…"

"Love the land first," or something like that.

Fine, I'll do just that.

Hu began digging into the earth with his bare hands.

"Cough, cough! Lord Landowner?"

The old serf called out to him from behind. Rader unconsciously raised his hand and let out a confused noise.

Hu silently beat and dug into the earth. When he found stones, he pulled them out and pressed down the soil firmly with his palm.

"Ouch, damn ant bastard."

Damn it, there were ants in the ground.

Hu brushed off the ant that had bitten his hand and focused again. It wasn’t as easy as he thought.

"FisherKing, you crazy bastard."

Didn’t that lunatic say he started farming with his bare hands because he sold off all his tools?

Was he insane? How did he do this with just his bare hands?

"I’ll do it. I’ll get it done."

Hu had no choice. He had to succeed at this first for anything else to go smoothly.

He clenched his teeth tightly. Still, he couldn’t help but let out some frustration.

After all, the only ones around to hear were the two serfs.

"Those damn bastards, I’ll get every last one of you."

Hu endured the pain of his nails breaking, thinking of those who had betrayed him—especially Joo Hee-yeon, who had struck him from behind.

Watching him, Marcus Rader blinked.

"Lord Landowner?"

"I'm busy. Don’t talk to me."

At this point, there was no use for either of them. Once he laid the foundation, that’s when they could be put to work.

"Go inside and rest."

The lord’s command was absolute.

Rader and the old man reluctantly went inside the hut. As soon as they were in, the old man blinked and asked,

"What is going on?"

"Would I know? Looks like our lord has gone mad."

The old man nodded without realizing it. Who would dig the ground themselves, leaving two healthy serfs idle?

And with bare hands, at that?

The old man stared through the hut’s open window.

"Argh! Damn it, why are there centipedes here?"

"Why are there so many stones?"

"Aaah! I’ll do it! I’ll finish this!"

Suddenly, Hu let out a chilling laugh and muttered words that sent a shiver down the old man’s spine.

"Yeah, laugh while you can. I’m coming for you."

Hearing the landowner’s cry and determination, the old man, pale-faced, turned to Marcus Rader.

"Should we go out and help?"

"I’ll ask."

Rader stepped outside and seemed to speak with the landowner. Soon, he returned and said,

"He said not to lay a single finger on the ground."

"Why?"

"…I don’t know."

He wasn’t normal—that much was certain. The old serf quietly straightened his posture, thinking that this mad lord might suddenly grab a hoe and go on a rampage.

He definitely didn’t seem sane.

At first glance, it was a small and unimpressive piece of land, but for bare hands, it was overwhelmingly vast.

His fingertips tore open.

Blood flowed.

His nails broke.

And soon, the sun had set.

"Rader! Rader!"

When Hu, squatting in the field, called for his advisor, Rader hurried out.

Drool stains covered the corner of his mouth—he must have dozed off.

This bastard was sleeping while the landowner worked?

Hu was about to say something but held back.

He had told him to rest, after all.

Fine, relax now. I'll deal with you later.

"Got any candles?"

He asked just in case.

On this damned land, everything had to be made or bought.

Even at the starting point, everything around was shrouded in darkness.

It meant that even interaction with others wasn’t allowed.

Everyone must have thought this was just some farming simulation game when they started. Hu included.

Damn [God Hand] bastard.

"Sir, instead of buying candles, I’d rather buy another sack of seeds."

The advisor was doing his job—suggesting it was better to buy more seeds than waste resources on candles.

"Damn it, I’ll handle it myself."

Hu metaphorically kicked the advisor’s suggestion aside and stood up.

He couldn’t till the land in darkness.

When he entered the hut, the old serf gave him a very uncomfortable look.

He must have felt like sitting on a bed of nails.

"Don’t worry about it, just rest."

For now, rest was necessary.

Squatting all day and digging the ground left not a single part of his body free from pain—his back, shoulders, and spine all throbbed.

But his hands were the worst.

There were scratches where the stones had torn his skin, and several nails had broken.

"Will this get infected?"

This cursed game became Hu’s reality the moment he stepped inside it.

He could even get sick here.

"Bring me some clean water, Rader."

"We only have drinking water, sir."

Damn [God Hand].

Fine, you can’t even wash in the early stages.

"Bring it anyway."

When Rader poured water from the canteen and Hu placed his hands under the flow, Rader spoke.

"Sir, if you use all the drinking water on this, starting tomorrow—"

"It’s fine."

Hu cut off the advisor’s advice.

"You’ve got nothing else to do, right? Go fetch more water."

"…Ah, that’s true!"

Rader nodded.

Marcus Rader seemed to be far less intelligent than Marcus Pael.

The running water on his hands was horribly cold and stung sharply.

Enduring the pain, Hu washed his hands and went inside, closing his eyes.

His exhaustion brought sleep almost immediately.

As he dozed off, he vaguely heard the old serf’s voice near his ear.

"Will he be okay?"

"How should I know?"

When he opened his eyes, sunlight immediately shone on his face.

Morning already?

He noticed a gaping hole in the wall meant to be a window.

Who built the hut’s window like that? Cold wind must have blown through all night.

Good thing the weather was warm—if it rained, he’d have been soaked sleeping.

"Ugh…"

A groan escaped his mouth.

Every inch of his body, from fingertips to toes, ached with muscle pain.

"Miserable."

But stagnation would be even more miserable.

The seeds planted today would become tomorrow’s crops.

"There’s only one goal."

Hu went out and started digging the earth again with his bare hands.

"Properly insane, this one is."

The old serf muttered as he watched, though Hu didn’t hear it.

Hu’s routine remained unchanged.

The same happened the next day and the day after that.

Even with ruined hands, he pressed the soil down firmly.

Each day left him covered in dirt.

For four days, the old serf rested while Rader fetched water.

"I want a bath."

Hu grumbled, annoyed by his stench.

But bathing wasn’t even an option yet.

To begin this game, he had to plant all the first seeds.

Only after that could anything else be properly set up.

Planting seeds was the first step of the tutorial.

Yet Hu hadn’t touched a single seed.

He looked at his blistered hands.

"It hurts like hell."

But the word ‘give up’ never crossed his mind.

He would push forward and strike the Achilles' heel of whoever was ahead of him.

He would make sure of it.

One name came to Hu’s mind.

"Joo Hee-yeon."

Thinking of the queen of the Pandemonium Kingdom, Hu clenched his teeth and dug into the ground again.

And then, on the evening of the fifth day—

Just as the sun was about to set, Hu raised both hands.

It felt like a thin thread brushing against his fingertips.

Focusing on that sensation, he lowered his gaze.

It was right beneath his feet.

The soil began to clump together, forming a shape.

If he had been any slower, he might have missed it in the dark—it was such a small movement.

Soon, the earth wriggled on its own and took the shape of a small dog.

At the same time, Hu felt an even stronger connection with it.

It was as if a thin thread connected them, pulling gently so they could feel each other’s presence.

The reason FisherKing became the Farming King was now clear before Hu.

Why had Hu gone insane and dug into the dirt with his bare hands?

What FisherKing had done was communion and exchange with the land.

He had shown devotion by digging and nurturing the soil alone.

And because of that, he had gained something.

Though it began small, even now, it would be more than enough to help.

"I want to form a contract. My name is Hu."

When Hu spoke, the dog-shaped soil crumbled and vanished.

Anyone watching might have thought it was a failure, but the system window clearly showed the result of Hu’s actions.

[You have successfully formed a contract with the Spirit of the Earth.]

This was just the beginning.

- To be continued -