NOVEL NEXT Chapter 1: Chapter 1: Rebirth of a Builder
The last thing I remembered was the chaos of a construction site—dust in the air, the metallic clanging of tools, and me, standing at the center of it all with blueprints in hand. I had been yelling at a subcontractor who had used the wrong concrete mix for the foundation. It was just another day in my life as a civil engineer: stressful, sure, but fulfilling. I thrived on challenges, and seeing my work come to life was a satisfaction I couldn't describe.
Then came the accident.
It was a split second of sheer terror. The scaffolding above me groaned ominously before collapsing. I didn't even have time to react before everything went dark.
When I opened my eyes, I wasn't on the site, and I certainly wasn't in my own world.
I found myself lying on a rough, straw-filled mattress in a dimly lit room. The walls were made of uneven, weathered stone, and the faint smell of damp earth filled the air. My body felt strange—smaller, lighter, as though I had been shrunken down. My hands, which had once been calloused and strong from years of hard labor, were now soft and delicate.
I sat up slowly, confusion clouding my mind. Where was I? What had happened to me?
Before I could gather my thoughts, a woman burst into the room. She looked to be in her thirties, with a plain dress and hands that bore the marks of years of hard work. Her face was etched with worry, but when she saw me awake, relief washed over her.
"Ah, young master! You're awake!" she exclaimed, rushing to my side.
"Young master?" I asked, my voice startlingly higher-pitched than I expected.
She frowned, tilting her head. "You must've hit your head harder than we thought. You're in Wynthall, your home, my lord."
Wynthall? Home? My mind struggled to process her words.
Over the next few hours, I learned the truth—a truth so bizarre that even now, I struggle to believe it. My name was now Leoric Wynthall, the only son of Duke Roderic Wynthall. I had been reincarnated into a world vastly different from my own, one where medieval castles and villages were the norm, and magic and swords were as real as the air I breathed.
This dukedom was in dire straits. Years of mismanagement by my father's predecessors had left the land impoverished, its people struggling to survive. The once-prosperous territory had been ravaged by bad harvests, debt, and corruption. My father, though a kind and well-meaning man, was barely holding things together.
As I pieced together the fragments of my new life, one thing became abundantly clear: I had been given a second chance. My memories of my past life as a civil engineer were intact, and this world, though different, presented opportunities I had never imagined.
The next day, I ventured out to see the state of my new home. The castle, if one could call it that, was crumbling. Cracks snaked through its stone walls, and the towers leaned precariously, as though they might collapse at any moment. The village nearby was even worse. The roads were little more than muddy trails, and the houses were ramshackle wooden huts that barely kept out the elements. The people themselves looked tired and malnourished, their eyes dulled by years of hardship.
And yet, they were kind. As I walked through the village, they greeted me with hesitant smiles, their voices warm despite their struggles. A farmer, his clothes patched and worn, offered me an apple from his meager harvest.
"They deserve better," I thought to myself, clutching the apple.
That night, as I lay awake in my cold, drafty room, my mind raced with ideas. In my world, I had built skyscrapers, bridges, and highways. Here, the possibilities were endless. I could revolutionize this place with even the simplest of innovations—better roads, clean water systems, sturdier buildings.
But where to begin?
I decided to focus on three priorities:
1. Basic Infrastructure: Roads, sanitation, and housing were non-negotiable. Without these, the dukedom would never progress.
2. Economic Revival: Farming techniques needed to improve, and the natural resources of the land had to be utilized. Trade routes could be established to bring wealth back to Wynthall.
3. Education and Training: The people needed knowledge—practical skills that would empower them to contribute to the dukedom's growth.
The biggest challenge was funding. The treasury was nearly empty, and what little income we had went toward repaying debts or was siphoned off by corrupt officials. But I had an advantage: my engineering knowledge. With a little ingenuity, I could create cost-effective solutions that would set this land on the path to prosperity.
The next morning, I marched into my father's study. The room was sparsely furnished, with an air of neglect that mirrored the rest of the castle. My father, a tall, imposing man with tired eyes, looked up from his desk as I entered.
"Leoric," he said, his voice gentle. "You should be resting. Your injuries—"
"I'm fine, Father," I interrupted, standing as tall as my small frame would allow. "And I want to help rebuild Wynthall."
He raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering in his eyes. "Rebuild? And how do you plan to do that, my son? You're just a boy."
"Give me a chance," I said, determination burning in my chest. "I'll show you."
My father stared at me for a long moment before nodding slowly. "Very well, Leoric. Show me what you can do."
And with that, the first step of my journey began.
In my past life, I had built structures that scraped the skies. Here, I would build a future—not just for myself, but for the people of Wynthall. This was my second chance, and I wouldn't waste it.