Countdown to the global launch of Age of Empires IX:

"3…"

"2…"

"1…"

…

A blinding white light suddenly flashed, and Arthur felt an icy chill wash over him, as if he'd been thrown into an endless void.

His consciousness drifted aimlessly, and soon, a blurry figure began to take shape in front of him. The figure was made of countless specks of starlight, its gaze seemingly piercing straight into his soul. Its voice was deep and distant, carrying an almost otherworldly weight.

"Welcome to the crossroads of destiny."

Arthur froze, completely unable to make sense of what was happening.

"Wait, what destiny? What crossroads? I was literally just playing a game!" he shouted instinctively, his voice echoing awkwardly in the vast emptiness around him.

He remembered everything clearly. Today was the long-awaited global launch of Age of Empires IX.

After rushing home from work, he'd scarfed down a box of cold pizza and logged into the game without a second thought.

The latest installment in the series had been hyped as a masterpiece, combining the best elements of Total War, Stronghold, and Crusader Kings, while introducing a groundbreaking dynamic strategy system.

He'd barely finished entering his login credentials and hadn't even gotten to enjoy the meticulously crafted opening cinematic when the screen flickered—and then everything went blank.

"Damn it, did I just get electrocuted? Or was the pizza poisoned?" Arthur muttered to himself, trying to convince himself this was just some absurd dream.

But the icy sensation in his limbs and the gnawing fear in his chest told him otherwise—this wasn't a dream.

The starlit figure raised a hand, cutting through Arthur's chaotic thoughts. "You, Arthur, an ordinary soul, have been granted a unique choice. This choice will determine the starting point of your new life and the infinite possibilities that lie ahead."

Arthur's eyes widened, his mind going completely blank.

"A new life? The future? You've got to be kidding me—I haven't even picked my character model yet!" he blurted out, but his protest fell on deaf ears.

The starlit figure ignored his outburst and, with a wave of its hand, conjured three glowing orbs in front of Arthur. Each orb radiated a distinct light and came with a brief description.

The First Orb: Unmatched Strength

Choosing this will grant you extraordinary physical prowess, making you an unstoppable force on the battlefield. You'll cut down enemies by the thousands and carve out your own legendary path.

The Second Orb: The Sage's Tome

Choosing this will bestow upon you unparalleled wisdom. You'll master politics, economics, and military strategy, easily becoming a nation's most trusted advisor—or even founding your own empire through sheer intellect.

The Third Orb: The Data Panel

Choosing this will give you access to a mysterious, game-like interface. It will track your growth, provide experience feedback, and optimize resource management… but its functionality is extremely limited.

"Choose, Arthur. Your old world is no longer relevant. Now is the time to decide your fate," the starlit figure intoned, its voice solemn and unyielding.

Arthur stared at the glowing orbs, frozen in place. His thoughts were a tangled mess, like a ball of wires hopelessly knotted together.

"So… that's it? Just like that? Shouldn't there be a bunch of NPCs explaining the backstory? Or at least some time for me to adjust?" he muttered, unable to stop himself from complaining.

But clearly, this space wasn't interested in entertaining his protests. The starlit figure stood silently, waiting, as if time itself had come to a standstill.

Arthur looked down at the three orbs, his emotions a chaotic swirl of confusion, excitement, and dread.

He'd thought about the possibility of being transported to another world before—who hadn't? But now that it was actually happening, all he felt was a deep sense of unease.

Unmatched Strength sounded like every man's ultimate dream, but deep down, Arthur knew that raw power would probably bring more trouble than it was worth.

The Sage's Tome? Sure, it sounded appealing, but who's to say being a "sage" wouldn't mean sleepless nights spent navigating endless political intrigue?

Then his gaze fell on the third orb.

The Data Panel—it looked like the least impressive option of the three. The description was so barebones it felt like something a rookie developer had slapped together in a rush.

"Is this thing even useful?" Arthur muttered to himself, skeptical.

"Alright, Arthur," the starlit figure interrupted, as if sensing his hesitation. "Make your choice. You've got ten seconds left—I'm about to clock out."

"Clock out?!" Arthur almost burst out laughing, despite the absurdity of his situation.

The figure, however, showed no sign of humor. Its tone was as flat and mechanical as an automated response system. "Even the crossroads of destiny has operational costs. I'm merely a guide. If you don't make a decision, the next person in line will take your place, and you'll be randomly assigned. Good luck."

Arthur's heart skipped a beat. 

Randomly assigned?

That sounded like starting a game on "Nightmare Mode" without even knowing the controls.

He stared at the three glowing orbs, his mind racing.

"Alright, Arthur, stay calm," he told himself, taking a deep breath.

His eyes returned to the Data Panel. It might have looked like the most boring choice, but his gut told him otherwise. Any seasoned strategy gamer knew—hidden features often turned out to be the most overpowered.

More importantly, the description mentioned "growth" and "optimization." Those didn't sound flashy, but they hinted at limitless potential.

"Could this be some kind of hidden god-tier skill allocator? Or maybe a global management cheat? Either way, it's got to be better than gambling on a random pick," Arthur reasoned.

"Time's up," the starlit figure announced abruptly.

"Wait!" Arthur gritted his teeth and reached out, grabbing the Data Panel orb. "I'll take this one! "

The orb shattered instantly, and a warm surge of energy flowed into his body.

...

18 Years Later

Arthur stood on the second-floor balcony of the manor, gazing out at the fields stretched before him. 

The morning light bathed the land in a golden glow, filtering through the thin mist and illuminating the farmers hard at work.

 They bent over in the fields, swinging their hoes and turning the damp soil. The air carried the fresh scent of earth, mingling with the distant chirping of birds.

The entire scene was peaceful and picturesque.

Arthur squinted slightly, letting the warmth of the sunlight wash over him, but he couldn't help letting out a sigh.

"Eighteen years… Where the hell is that data panel I picked? If I'd known it'd be like this, I would've chosen a different orb," he muttered to himself, his tone tinged with regret.

It had been eighteen years since he was transported to this unfamiliar world, yet the "data panel" he had chosen back then still hadn't shown up.

In these eighteen years, he had gradually adapted to his new identity—the second son of a baron in a medieval noble society.

Sure, being a noble afforded him a comfortable life, but Arthur knew deep down that none of this truly belonged to him. As the second son of the family, he was destined to inherit nothing. Even the manor and the fields he was looking at weren't his to claim.

This estate belonged to Count Avington. Arthur's father, in a bid to secure even the slimmest chance of advancement for him, had sent him to serve under the count as a knight's squire.

In this world, second sons of noble families typically had no inheritance rights, but that didn't mean their futures were entirely bleak.

Many independent nobles and vassals of counts would send their second sons to the households of higher-ranking nobles to undergo rigorous knight training.

On one hand, it was a way to strengthen ties between families. On the other, it was the best path for second sons to carve out a future for themselves.

After completing their training, they could choose to join the count's knightly order, earn land through military achievements, or use their credentials to seek opportunities elsewhere—even returning home to assist their elder brothers.

For Arthur, joining Count Avington's knightly order was undoubtedly the most ideal path. Becoming a landed noble and building a legacy of his own had always been his goal.

But for Arthur, everything had taken a strange turn because of the "data panel."

[Ding! Data panel activated. Sorry, I just got back from vacation.]

A translucent screen suddenly appeared in front of Arthur.

"You've got to be kidding me!" Arthur cursed under his breath, glaring at the screen before turning away and heading back into his room.

…

His real work was just beginning.

The final lesson of knight training: independently train a militia unit.

In this world, a knight's combat skills were undoubtedly important, but simply knowing how to swing a sword and kill enemies wasn't enough. A competent knight also needed to understand how to manage troops and train soldiers. Otherwise, his life would amount to nothing more than that of a glorified mercenary.

Arthur took a deep breath and muttered under his breath, "Panel."

At his thought, a translucent screen abruptly materialized in front of him.

Arthur Grayson

Class: Knight (Level 5) (30/100 EXP)

EXP Pool: 0/100

The interface was so barebones it was almost laughable, with only a few lines of data displayed. If that were all it could do, Arthur would've dismissed this so-called "cheat" long ago. But after days of experimenting, he'd uncovered its true value.

First, it provided real-time feedback on his growth. Every day of training earned him experience points, which not only leveled him up but also noticeably improved his physical abilities and combat skills.

More importantly, the panel's effects weren't limited to just himself.

After a quick wash and a simple breakfast delivered by the servants, Arthur headed straight to the manor's training grounds.

This manor was one of Count Avington's many holdings. It wasn't particularly large, but it was home to over 500 serfs. To defend against bandits and other potential threats, the estate maintained a small guard force. However, there were only five professional soldiers; the rest were either hastily conscripted militiamen or farmers wielding tools.

Arthur's task was to train a ten-man militia unit within a month.

When he arrived at the training grounds, the militiamen were already there, standing in a sloppy line. Their postures were crooked, their expressions bored, and their discipline nonexistent.

Although the improved meals over the past few days had made them a bit stronger physically, their mental state was still a mess.

Arthur frowned as he approached, gripping a short wooden staff in his hand. Without hesitation, he rapped it sharply against the shoulder of one of the militiamen who was slouching.

"Stand up straight! Form a proper line!" His voice was cold and commanding.

The militiamen flinched, startled by his sudden outburst, and hurriedly adjusted their postures. Arthur's training methods were simple and straightforward: learn to line up properly, distinguish left from right, master the basic thrusting technique with a spear, and build stamina through physical drills.

For a militia unit, that was more than enough.

Complex tactics and advanced techniques would only waste time.

The training was monotonous and grueling, but Arthur didn't care.

He knew the real challenge wasn't the content of the training—it was figuring out the right rhythm for these men, finding a way to push them to their limits and unlock their potential in the shortest time possible.

As the men began their drills, Arthur discreetly opened the Data Panel and switched to the "Army" tab.

Army

Farmer Squad 1 → Militia Squad 1

After several days of effort, the panel had finally recognized the existence of this fledgling unit. Arthur tapped on one of the militiamen's icons, and a rudimentary information screen popped up.