A year had passed since Aldrin first opened his eyes in this world.
Time moved differently when measured in blood, death, and survival, but the milestone could not be denied. Twelve months since his arrival. Nine months since the awakening of his Exclusive Skill. Nine months since he had stopped being prey.
The frozen mountains had become quiet.
Not peaceful, not gentle, but orderly. Snow still blanketed jagged peaks, storms still howled through narrow passes, and monsters still prowled the outskirts. Yet within the heart of the territory claimed by the Vampire King, there was structure. Patrols moved on precise schedules. Magical wards pulsed faintly beneath the ice. Undead sentries stood motionless, tireless, eternal.
At the center of it all stood Aldrin.
He no longer looked like a fugitive summoner clinging to borrowed protection. His posture was straighter now, his presence heavier. Mana flowed through his body with a steadiness that would have been unthinkable months ago. Each breath fed the second mana circle embedded within his lungs, a complex construct that drank in ambient mana and refined it with ruthless efficiency.
Fifty thousand.
That was where his reserves now stood.
An absurd number for a summoner who had existed in this world for only a year. Even veteran archmages would hesitate to claim such depth without external artifacts or decades of cultivation. Aldrin carried it within himself, raw and growing.
Behind him stood his summons.
They were arranged not by command, but by instinct.
Two presences loomed like distorted pillars of divinity. Five star existences whose very existence bent the air around them. One radiated corruption refined into authority, the other stood with a presence that felt less like malice and more like inevitability.
Elsharion did not bother hiding his nature.
The Demigod of Corruption stood with arms crossed, black and violet sigils drifting slowly around his form. His gaze was calm, analytical, and utterly unafraid of anything in the room. To him, kings were concepts, not superiors.
Beside him stood another five star summon, silent and watchful, power compressed so tightly it felt like a blade waiting to be drawn.
Three four star summons stood further back, each a monster in their own right. Veterans of countless battles, beings whose presence alone could shift the outcome of wars. Seven three star summons completed the formation, three of them the result of improbably fortunate weekly summons. Even among Aldrin's forces, luck had begun to bend in his favor.
The Vampire King observed the scene from his throne of obsidian and crimson crystal.
"You have grown," the monarch said at last.
His voice echoed softly through the hall, not through volume but weight. Red eyes studied Aldrin with something that bordered on approval.
Aldrin inclined his head, respectful but unbowed.
"I would not have survived without you," he said honestly. "You gave me shelter. You defended me when the kingdom hunted me. You allowed me to grow without interference."
The Vampire King laughed quietly.
"You paid for that protection," he replied. "With opportunity."
Aldrin nodded. He understood that transaction well now.
"You did more than uphold an agreement," Aldrin continued. "You treated me as an equal long before I deserved it. For that, you have my gratitude."
The Vampire King leaned back slightly, amused.
"Gratitude from a summoner who may one day rival the old calamities," he said. "That is no small thing."
Elsharion turned his head slightly, glancing at Aldrin with faint curiosity. He said nothing, but the corner of his lips twitched.
"You are no longer hiding," the Vampire King continued. "Your mana alone announces your presence. Your summons… they cannot remain unseen."
"I know," Aldrin said.
His gaze drifted toward the distant south, toward the lands ruled by the Central Kingdom. Toward the powers that had hunted him. Toward the heroes who had died in pursuit of him.
"I have no intention of hiding anymore."
Silence followed.
The Vampire King studied him carefully, then nodded once.
"So you will announce yourself."
"Yes," Aldrin said. "But not with words."
The hall seemed to darken slightly as mana stirred.
"I will make my existence undeniable."
Elsharion's smile widened.
The plan was simple. Brutal. Effective.
The Central Kingdom prided itself on control. On borders, strongholds, heroes, and doctrines enforced by force and faith. Aldrin had no interest in speeches or proclamations. Fear spread faster than truth, and devastation carved messages that could not be ignored.
"Elsharion," Aldrin said calmly.
The demigod turned fully now, eyes gleaming.
"You will go to the Central Kingdom," Aldrin continued. "Not to conquer. Not to exterminate. You will remind them that there are powers beyond their reach."
Elsharion chuckled softly.
"Define remind."
"Break what they believe is unbreakable," Aldrin replied. "Cripple their military infrastructure. Leave their capital standing, but afraid."
The demigod placed a hand over his chest in mock reverence.
"As my summoner commands."
The Vampire King watched without interruption.
"You are escalating," he said.
"Yes," Aldrin agreed. "I have waited long enough."
He turned slightly, gesturing behind him.
"These are not the forces of a desperate man anymore."
The summons behind him stood silent, but their presence spoke volumes. Monsters shaped by death, magic, and unrestrained growth. Entities that would once have terrified Aldrin now stood as extensions of his will.
"I look at you now," the Vampire King said slowly, "and I do not see a villain."
Aldrin raised an eyebrow.
"I see a king in the making."
Aldrin exhaled.
"I never wanted to be one," he said. "But the world insists."
The Vampire King smiled.
"Then wear the crown," he said. "Even if you do not call it that."
Preparations were swift.
There were no grand ceremonies, no dramatic farewells. Elsharion stepped forward, space warping subtly around him as he prepared to depart. The other high ranking summons watched with anticipation, restrained only by Aldrin's will.
Before Elsharion vanished, he paused.
"When the world finally speaks your name," he said, "what will you have them call you?"
Aldrin considered the question.
"Nothing yet," he answered. "Let them decide."
Elsharion laughed and disappeared, reality sealing behind him with a faint tremor.
Aldrin remained standing, gazing southward.
For the first time since his arrival, he did not feel hunted.
He felt established.
Behind him, his summons formed a silent court. Not arranged by rank, but by loyalty. Their presence made the frozen hall feel less like a refuge and more like a throne room carved from ice and shadow.
A year ago, Aldrin had been a man running from extinction.
Now, the world would run from him.
And this time, he would not chase.
He would wait.