Three months.
That was how long Aldrin had been in this world.
And three more months had passed since Zeke began the hunt.
The passage of time felt strange now. Days blurred together beneath eternal fog and cold skies, marked not by sunrise and sunset but by meditation cycles, summoning cooldowns, and the slow expansion of his influence. The boy who had arrived with barely passable skills and locked potential felt distant, almost unreal.
Now, Aldrin sat within a chamber carved from black stone, veins of crimson crystal pulsing faintly along the walls like a living thing.
This was not a dungeon.
This was not a hideout.
It was a place of power.
And for the first time since arriving in this world, Aldrin was not hiding.
He was being courted.
Before him stood Heinz, the vampiric necromancer who ruled these lands. His pale features were calm, crimson eyes reflecting faint candlelight. He carried himself with the ease of someone who had ruled for centuries and survived countless political storms.
"You have grown faster than expected," Heinz said. "Even by our standards."
Aldrin smiled faintly.
"That tends to happen when half the world is trying to kill you."
Heinz chuckled softly.
"That too."
The truth was simple. Aldrin was no longer a minor threat to be erased quietly. He was no longer prey.
He was a variable.
And the Vampire King had taken notice.
The negotiations had begun only after Aldrin's latest Monthly summon.
Elsharion.
Even remembering the name sent a faint shiver through Aldrin's spine.
The summoning ritual itself had nearly killed him. Unlike Brago's arrival, which had been violent and exhausting, Elsharion's summoning had been oppressive. The air had not burned. It had rotted. Mana itself had recoiled, bending inward as if afraid to exist in the same space.
When the summoning circle faded, Elsharion stood within it, tall and impossibly still. His form was humanoid, yet wrong in ways Aldrin could not fully articulate. His skin shimmered like tarnished silver stained with veins of black corruption. A halo like ring of fractured runes hovered behind his head, slowly rotating, dripping motes of decay that vanished before touching the ground.
Elsharion had not knelt.
He had not bowed.
He had simply inclined his head and spoken.
"I acknowledge the contract."
A Demigod of Corruption.
A five star summon.
A being whose presence alone shifted the balance of power.
And he served Aldrin.
The three star summon that came before Elsharion had been impressive in his own right.
Castillo.
A human necromancer with hollow eyes and ink black veins running beneath pale skin. He had once been a court mage before forbidden studies consumed him. His mastery over undead construction and soul anchoring had elevated Aldrin's forces dramatically.
Where Brago brought domination and infernal command, Castillo brought refinement. Efficiency. Structure.
Together, they had turned Aldrin's growing army into something far more dangerous than a collection of monsters.
The rest of his summons were less glamorous, but no less important.
Two more minor spirits of darkness drifted constantly at the edges of his perception, whispering secrets of shadow and entropy. Three skeleton infantry patrolled their territory tirelessly, reinforced by a skeleton archer whose precision improved daily under Castillo's guidance.
The two star abomination was a grotesque thing of stitched flesh and bone, slow but terrifyingly resilient. It served as both deterrent and shield.
And then there was Firak, still loyal, still vigilant.
None of his weekly summons had yielded a three star.
It was frustrating.
But Aldrin had learned patience.
Power was cumulative.
The spirits of darkness had changed him in subtle ways. His mana reacted more naturally to shadow now. Darkness spells that once felt foreign now flowed easily. His affinity with the Darkness element had been confirmed weeks ago.
And his reserves.
Thirty thousand mana.
The number still felt unreal.
Brago and Elsharion worked in tandem, guiding his meditation, reinforcing his internal pathways, expanding his capacity slowly but safely. Castillo assisted by stabilizing the ambient mana around their base, preventing overflow or collapse.
It was growth backed by monsters.
And gods.
"This is why the King is interested," Heinz said, breaking Aldrin from his thoughts. "You are not simply powerful. You are scalable."
Aldrin raised an eyebrow.
"That sounds flattering and terrifying."
"It is both," Heinz replied. "Which is why I have been authorized to offer you protection."
Brago snorted quietly.
"Protection," he muttered. "From the ones hunting him, or from yourselves?"
Heinz smiled thinly.
"From everyone."
He gestured, and the image of a distant land formed in the air between them. Mountains layered upon mountains, far beyond the Vampire King's capital. A region shrouded in perpetual twilight, where even ancient undead avoided settling without permission.
"This region lies beyond even the King's immediate reach," Heinz said. "A place where unwanted assets are hidden, cultivated, and forgotten."
Aldrin studied the image carefully.
"And the cost?"
Heinz did not hesitate.
"You will introduce any four star or higher vampire you summon to the Vampire King."
Silence followed.
Brago's eyes narrowed.
Elsharion tilted his head slightly, unreadable.
Aldrin considered it.
It was not a demand of loyalty.
It was an exchange of value.
"You want access to my growth," Aldrin said.
"Yes," Heinz replied. "And in return, you will be protected. Shielded. Given time."
Time.
That was the most valuable resource Aldrin had.
Zeke's hunt was escalating. Heroes were converging. The north was no longer quiet.
"I accept," Aldrin said.
Heinz bowed slightly.
"Then welcome," he said, "to your new home."
The chamber trembled faintly as ancient mechanisms awakened.
Far away, beyond the fog and war, Aldrin's path diverged once more.