Tyrant Simulator

Spring is in full bloom, and all things are coming back to life.

As the morning light shone down, the thatched huts built of straw, large and small, stood side by side, forming a cluster of seven or eight hundred households.

The men in the family get up early, carry hoes, and work hard in the barren and cramped farmland.

The vast fields ahead had long since become barren pastures overgrown with weeds, and many people mounted their horses and drove herds of horses to graze on the hillside.

Luke sat on a pile of logs, which looked like a small mountain, lost in thought.

He is a time traveler from modern society.

That day, as usual, he opened the newly downloaded large-scale Western fantasy game, "Magic Europe: The Laboratory of Love".

Unexpectedly, as soon as the game started, he was "sucked" into the computer screen and transported to another world—where he was unconscious and rescued by Hagen, the chieftain of the human tribe he was currently in.

Through this period of in-depth understanding, Luke learned that the entire continent was not inhabited only by humans—besides the rampant hordes of brutal monsters like goblins and ogres, there were also highly intelligent beings like elves and dwarves living there.

Humanity has been reduced to an enslaved race…

In the 315th year of the Human Emperor's Calendar, the High Elves of Paradise Island launched a full-scale invasion of the continent.

Because the elves possessed dark magic and weapons and armor forged from mithril, they were virtually invincible and quickly conquered the capital…

After the first High Elf King, Gori I the Conqueror, came to rule over humanity, he divided the continent into fifteen provinces and established governors. Under the governors, lords were appointed, thus establishing a vast and expansive empire—the Holy Highgarden Empire.

While suppressing resistance forces across the land with overwhelming force, the High Elves implemented harsh "Elven" laws and spread the native religion of Paradise Island—the Emen religion—ultimately completing their iron-fisted rule over humanity, a rule that has lasted for over a hundred years.

Luke's location was in the Nord province in the north of the Empire, a peripheral village under the rule of the Na'vi lord of White Deer Keep. The villagers originally made their living mostly by farming and hunting, but the high elves, in order to obtain a continuous supply of warhorses, forced the people here to abandon farming and graze their livestock to raise horses for their army.

He recalled the "sheep eating people" mentioned in his history textbook from his previous life during the Enclosure Movement in England—he hadn't felt anything then, but now he finally understood.

"Humans are as insignificant as ants... I never expected to be reborn into such a disastrous start. How can I turn the tide?"

Even though he was grateful to his "savior," Luke, who had received a modern education, had to admit that:

Although the humans here are inherently kind, they have become numb and ignorant after being brainwashed by the High Elves' policy of "keeping the people ignorant." They do not know what resistance is and have become veritable "slaves of a conquered nation."

But this is not the people's fault.

The English peasants didn't know how to rebel from the start. They first wandered, then begged, then stole, and finally hanged themselves... until someone told them, "The land doesn't belong to the lord, it belongs to everyone."

Luke didn't know if that statement would work here. But he knew that someone had to say it first.

He then turned his gaze to the vast, untamed land to the north, where the Hun River flowed quietly beneath the majestic Obsidian Mountain, nourishing the dense forests.

If you don't want to "kneel" here, are you going to go into the mountains and "stand" to fight a guerrilla war?

Luke quickly shook his head: the reason why that wild land in the north had not been conquered by the high elves was probably because monsters roamed there, and the cost of developing and ruling it was too high... If he went there to establish a base, he would be on the ogre's dinner table that very night.

Just then, a commotion nearby interrupted his thoughts.

Four or five children, all around age, were playing carefree in the grass, playing "horseback fighting" with sticks.

One of the little girls was only eight or nine years old, a natural beauty, but she wore a huge, heavy iron nose ring, which was quite eye-catching.

Luke pointed at her nose and couldn't help but ask, "Lana, why do you wear that thing all the time? Doesn't it hurt?"

To everyone's surprise, the little girl puffed out her chest and said proudly, "What do you know? It can make my nose big and sharp—just like a noble high elf!"

Hearing this, Luke sighed inwardly and said nothing more.

Human nature is to admire the strong.

After years of servile education, people have come to believe that the High Elves are "superior" in every aspect, including technology, wisdom, and civilization. Even their basic aesthetic sense has been subtly influenced.

"Luke, I've finally found you."

Chief Hagen, leaning on his cane, walked over with faltering steps.

He lovingly patted his granddaughter Lana's head, coaxed the children away, and then sighed to Luke:

"Luke, my son Roger has gone to meet Lord Neville's tax collection team. When you hand over the horses later, hide in my house and don't come out or make a sound."

He looked up, and Luke saw that the old chieftain's brow furrowed even deeper: "You have no idea how harsh the laws of the Elven Law are regarding harboring outsiders... Our entire village could lose its life because of it!"

The Qin state's system of collective punishment? These elves seem to know a thing or two about governing a country.

Just as Luke was about to speak, he heard the rapid sound of horses' hooves, and Hagen's expression changed.

"Quick, come inside!"

Urged on, Luke hid in the chieftain's hut.

Through the window of the hut, he saw the chieftain's eldest son, Rogge, leading a cavalry unit of about twenty men, coming in a grand procession.

These cavalrymen were all human, and their silver chainmail uniforms emitted a strange light, making them appear awe-inspiring and unapproachable.

Luke's heart skipped a beat: Could this be the legendary mithril forging... No, mithril is extremely precious, how could it be so easily given to humans?

Just then, these human "pseudo-soldiers" neatly parted to the left and right, surrounding a tall, thin man in fine clothes as if surrounded by stars.

The man was slender, with long, pointed ears, white hair, purple eyes, and a thick, high, hooked nose. He was arrogant and domineering, displaying a typical male high elf appearance.

Seeing this, Hagen quickly stepped forward and greeted the high elf tax collector with a smile.

As he led the tax collector toward the pasture, he instructed his youngest son, Parker, to herd the horses across the hillside back to their proper place so that the tax could be paid on time.

When the tax collection team counted the horses, the villagers formed a circle at a distance. No one dared to approach, nor did anyone leave... Most of the people simply craned their necks and silently watched in this direction.

"My lord, all 514 warhorses are here... not one is missing," Roger said cautiously.

The high elf's face darkened: "The number is correct. But I clearly remember that three hundred of them were pure white horses, how come they've all turned into mixed-colored inferior horses?"

Roger, an impatient man, couldn't help but exclaim, "These horses are the same as last year, could it be that the adults have made a mistake...?"

Before he could finish speaking, he was whipped across the face.

"You lowly slaves, would I wrong you? These horses are intended as tribute to the Royal Army. Do you expect our knights to ride these mongrels?"

"dad!"

Seeing her father being beaten, Lana was both frightened and heartbroken, and burst into tears.

Grandpa Hagen didn't have time to cover her mouth before the High Elves noticed.

"Is this your daughter? Bring her over here!"

Two human cavalrymen shoved Hagen aside and dragged Lana in front of Rogge.

The high elf rolled up her sleeve, revealing a section of her fair forearm, and drew his saber, threatening, "I'll count to three. Either hand over three hundred white warhorses; or... say goodbye to your daughter's arm!"

Lana struggled desperately with red eyes, but she couldn't break free from the high elf's withered yet powerful hand.

"don't want!"

Rogge tried to save his daughter, but was pinned down by two cavalrymen, his face almost buried in the mud.

Among the villagers on the outskirts, some were trembling, some turned their heads away, and some stared intently at the ground…

Parker, the patriarch's second son, clenched his fists and was about to step forward to stop him, but was tightly grabbed by the hem of his clothes by the woman behind him.

Luke was extremely anxious and wanted to save the girl, but he knew he was no match for these burly cavalrymen... Going there would only be suicide.

Just when I was at my wit's end, a cold voice suddenly rang in my ears:

Ding!

Congratulations, host, for activating the [Tyrant Simulator]! You can now summon historical tyrants to command. Increase your summoning attempts by increasing the number of people you rule.

Current population under rule: 0/0, remaining summon count: 1 - Summon or not?