King of the Old World

It showed a middle-aged man grasping a pen above a leather-bound tome. He began to inscribe his thoughts.

"My name is Takuya Fujimoto. I'm a polymath called Basscilly; that means I'm extremely knowledgeable and delve into a myriad of subjects. I'm a scientist and chemist; I've also studied biology and physics. I dabble in biochemistry, chemical engineering, industrial engineering, civil engineering, and electrical engineering, with a keen interest in history as well. My life has been relatively prosperous thus far. I just landed a job with an 800k annual wage. My lady and I are content in our relationship and expecting a child. But that's all for now."

Takuya halted his writing, closing the book marked "Journal" on its cover. Rising from his chair, he sprawled on the hotel bed, gazing at the ceiling, the weight of sleep pulling him under. But within mere moments, the pungent aroma of damp earth and decaying leaves jolted him awake.

He blinked, only to find himself treading a mossy forest path, a Viking-style dagger gripped in his hand. A strange pressure tugged at his back. As he paused, a bolt of pain shot through him, and memories that weren't his flooded his mind. Turning to his right, he spotted a girl clad in worn, brown clothing, her smile radiant as she carried heavy bags.

"Helga," Takuya blurted, inexplicably aware of her name.

"Ulrich, we aren't there yet!" she replied, her voice cheerful. Takuya's mind raced; "Ulrich" was the name he had inherited in this strange new world.

A voice rang from the rear of the group, "We camp here for the night!"

The weary travelers dropped their bags and settled down in exhaustion. Elsewhere, in a grand Viking hall, a man with braided copper hair and a short brown beard reclined on a throne, clad in formidable armor and a fur cloak. A scrawny, disheveled Viking scuttled in, addressing him as Earl Kolfsteid.

"What is it, boy?" the lord grumbled.

"A convoy was spotted nearby. Should we attack them?"

"Hmmm," the chieftain mused, stroking his beard. "Send a few warriors; it's just a convoy—shouldn't pose much of a problem."

Back with Ulrich, he lay on the cool earth, staring up at a night sky sprinkled with shimmering stars. The whirlwind of events from the past three hours settled in his mind. "I've been sent back in time," he thought, though a sliver of doubt whispered that this could still be a dream. Yet, if he wanted to rise within this hierarchy, he would need to eliminate the old man whose image flashed in his mind—a battle-scarred man with shaved sides, donned in tattered Viking armor, wielding a religious-looking sword.

Ulrich scowled at the pungent smell around him. "Might need to make some soap while I'm here," he muttered, recalling the filth of medieval life.

Suddenly, medieval knights on horseback clanged through the dense forest, swords raised in aggression, while Ulrich toiled in the fields with a hoe. A skirmish erupted in the nearby encampment as the knights charged in, their target: the old leader. In an instant, he was impaled by a spear, the life draining from his eyes as chaos erupted. Flames engulfed tents as Ulrich rushed to grab buckets, dousing the fire and aiding the wounded.

As he worked, shocked faces gawked at him, recognizing his bravery in the face of horror. In the aftermath, the settlement mourned their losses, grief stricken over loved ones they had lost.

Overwhelmed by the carnage, Ulrich's thoughts raced back to his ambition of climbing the ranks of this realm. With renewed resolve, he leaped to his feet. "Enough of this!" he bellowed, drawing the attention of all, including Helga, who had been quiet for a while. "It's clear we are powerless! Someone once said, 'We must learn to live together as brothers, or perish together as fools.' If we allow this defeat to chain us down, we will be lost."

He raised his visage to the crowd. "With me as your leader, I shall guide us to a prosperous life!"

"And where will we go, then?" a warrior with long black hair and battered armor questioned, still nursing his wounds.

"We stay here!" Ulrich thundered, stamping his foot. "We'll forge our own settlement!"

The wounded warrior lifted his fist high. "As long as I get to feast with Odin himself, I'll follow!"

With that, camaraderie sparked among the villagers. One by one, they began to rise, rallying behind Ulrich, fists raised in unity

SUB CHAPTER 1: Earl Ulrich

"Here are all the bags" A warrior called out, gesturing toward the stack of bags piled high in front of Ulrich. "This is all we possess: a year's worth of provisions, hundreds upon hundreds of vegetables, hammers and tools, along with some stones for building." "The warrior Said."

"Use the axes to Chop as much timber as you can," Ulrich commanded, his voice steady and authoritative. "Once we've gathered a decent amount, start construction on the village Great Hall. After that, we'll turn our efforts to food production. Once those tasks are done and we're finally stable, we can begin trading some of the ore we've got."

"ULRICH!" Helga exclaimed, sprinting toward him before leaping into his arms and wrapping him in a tight embrace. She began to tease him, a playful glint in her eye. "Look at you, all bossy and serious! It's downright tiring! How about we take a hike in the forest to clear your mind?"

"Ugh…" Ulrich sighed, but the sparkle in her eyes made it hard to refuse. "Alright, let's go."

Meanwhile, the brown-haired man from earlier now donned a white tunic, brown trousers, and black mid-calf boots stood aboard a Viking warship. The crew rowed in unison, the rhythmic chant of "Row! Row! Row!" echoing over the water. A seabird landed on his shoulder, a paper holder bag clutched around its chest.

The man reached up and plucked the note from the bird. Unrolling it, he read: "Attack on the convoy successful, but they've rallied under a new leader who has claimed the title of Earl." He grimaced, crumpling the paper and tossing it into the ocean. With a laugh, he turned his face to the sky. "Things are starting to get interesting!"

The scene shifted to Ulrich and Helga, riding a sturdy horse through the lush forest. Helga clung tightly to Ulrich's waist as they galloped over the earthy path. Sniffing the air, Ulrich crinkled his nose. "What is that smell?" he wondered internally. It reminded him of delicate perfumes from his past life, but softer, And earthy still a scent that Didn't linger from Helga.

He turned his head left into the dense foliage and then right, peering into the shadows, but saw nothing amiss. Suddenly, two arrows whistled through the air, hurtling toward him. In an instant, instinct took over; Ulrich caught the arrows deftly, snapping them in half with a swift motion and a grin. "Looks like we've got company," he said Ulrich jumped off his horse, dagger drawn, as a fierce woman emerged from the forest. Clad in cropped armor and gladiator shorts, her own dagger at her side, she revealed striking blue markings spiraling across her chest.

"Release Helga, you perverted fiend!" she commanded. Helga dismounted and dashed towards the woman, throwing her arms around her in a long-awaited embrace.

The scene then shifted to The Brown Haired man on a boat, now in view of Ulrich's town. Suddenly, a bucket of cold water splashed down on Ulrich's head, pulling him from slumber. He looked up, only to find the same fierce woman pointing a sword directly at him.

"Can I help you?" Ulrich grumbled, irritation evident in his voice.

"You vile creature!" she hissed, the blade unwavering against his throat. "You perverted scoundrel!"

Ulrich noticed the ropes binding him weren't knotted tightly. Just then, Helga burst into the room. "Astrid! What are you doing to my friend?." "You've been bewitched by him!" Astrid Said

"Helga step back!" Ulrich interjected. "The one who took me fled after Ulrich saved! Me"

With newfound resolve, Ulrich broke free from his bindings, startling the shieldmaidens around them, who instinctively readied for battle. Helga clung to Ulrich, fear etched across her face.

"Are you a shieldmaiden?" Ulrich asked, genuinely curious.

Astrid lowered her sword and exchanged glances with Helga. "Aye, we are. What's it to you?" she replied, annoyance creeping into her tone.

"I am Earl Ulrich," he declared boldly. "I've begun to form a village with the aim of creating a prosperous nation. I invite you to join me as warriors, but also as free women."

The shieldmaidens murmured amongst themselves. "Can you promise the safety of all of us?" Astrid asked suspiciously. "How many of you are there?" Ulrich Replied

"There are many lone shieldmaiden groups scattered across the land," she explained. "They'll come to see if your words hold true, and once they do, they may join us for the sake of a better life."

Ulrich then began gathering his belongings. "Hey, where are you off to?" One of the maidens Asked him. "I can tell you're not their leader, so anything else you have to say will be between me and your Boss." The black-haired warrior, still unnamed in the village, realized that Ulrich had not returned in a while. It Showed Ulrich walking through the forest I wonder what's happening back in the village.

Suddenly, a massive wolf—five times the size of an ordinary one—leaped from the dense forest. Ulrich prepared to fight, but to his surprise, the wolf collapsed, weakened, revealing two tiny pups clinging to its belly. Dropping his dagger, Ulrich rushed to the wolf, which lay conscious yet seemingly paralyzed. Grief washed over him at the creature's plight.

Determined to help, Ulrich struggled to lift the giant wolf, managing to move it only slightly to the side. *I'm only ten minutes away from the village. I can't just drag this wolf by hand,* he thought. After a moment, he muttered to himself, "Hmmm," and dashed into the thick underbrush of the forest.

Meanwhile, in the village, a brown-haired man stood before a gathering of villagers, who stared at him in fear. "WHERE CAN I FIND EARL ULRICH?" he shouted. A voice emerged from the crowd. "And who might you be?" one villager asked. The crowd parted, revealing the black-haired warrior from before, flanked by several armed warriors clad in chainmail and helmets.

"Are you Earl Ulrich?" the brown-haired man asked. The black-haired warrior's followers formed a protective circle around him. "Answer my question first," he insisted.

"I am Earl Sigurd, Commander of the Seas and a high-ranking member of the Alliance of the Earls. Now bring forth your weakling Earl so he can bow before me," Sigurd taunted.

The scene shifted back to Ulrich, who was chasing after a hollow log. He managed to position himself in front of it, planting his feet in the ground to stop its momentum. *Holy hell, I'm so foolish; the wolf is paralyzed!* Ulrich glanced around. *Wait, this world should have muscle restoration herbs...*

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes to focus and listen to the surrounding sounds. He could hear the rustle of a herd of deer, birds chirping, squirrels scampering, and insects buzzing. *No horses around me,* he chuckled. *I found my herb!* He quickly spotted a small shrub about fifty yards away. It stood between 30 cm to 3 m tall, with green branches covered in white, woolly hairs. The dull green oval leaves measured around 10 cm long and 4 cm wide, and the plant bore greenish-yellow flowers and red berries.

The narrative then shifted to Helga and Astrid, who were seated at a dining table, enjoying a steaming bowl of brown soup. A more elegant shieldmaiden entered, wearing a fitted blue dress cinched with a belt adorned with souvenirs.

"Astrid! What's this about you attacking an Earl?" Helga exclaimed, turning to face the newcomer, who rushed over to embrace her.

"How did you find her?" the woman asked Astrid, who casually replied, "I took her back from some Earl."

The woman's eyes widened. "Astrid! You know how dangerous the Earls are—especially their leader, Ivar of Death. He's said to be the deadliest man in all of Norway!"

"Here's the twist," Astrid interjected, excitement in her voice. "He isn't part of the Alliance of Earls. Even better, he wants to recruit us as warriors and make us free women!"

Helga nodded confidently. "I can confirm that Ulrich rescued me from my slave owner. I've been living with him for a year and a half."

Eleanor, deep in thought, said, "I'll meet this Ulrich. Once I see his true intentions, we'll inform the others."

Meanwhile, back in the village, the brown-haired man took a swig from his wooden beer mug and shouted at the black-haired warrior, "Hey, you—bitch!"

The black-haired warrior slammed his beer mug to the ground. "If you call me that one more time, I'll kill you and your so-called warriors."

"Enough, Harald," Ulrich said, stepping forward to address the situation. "Earl Sigurd, for trespassing on my land, threatening my soldiers, and trying to force my people to swear fealty to you, I order you to hand over two of your twelve villages."

Harald's drunken demeanor faded, and he stood tall. "Well, you've finally decided to show yourself, Ulrich Noleifstein. I'll give you two villages I don't care about, but I warn you, Ivar won't be happy. I'm a lone Earl," Ulrich shot back. "Unlike you and the Alliance of Earls, I don't care about Ivar, nor will I ever show fear toward him."

"Eddaheim and Alsvik. I'll give you those two villages," Sigurd said, walking away toward his ship, which was docked a short distance away.

"Where's Helga?" Harald asked Ulrich.

"We'll talk about that later," Ulrich replied, his thoughts still on the tasks ahead.