[5 years later]
Vrunemir's Kingdom stood, against all odds.
What was once Ramsora had transformed beyond recognition.
The lavish villas of the nobility had been stripped to bone and brick, reforged into communal barracks and armories.
The cathedrals now housed grain reserves and training halls.
And atop it all, in the keep carved from the rubble of a conquered palace, sat King Vrunemir.
He was no longer the grinning bandit with a dream.
No longer the roaring rebel with a kingdom to steal.
He was a ruler now — and it showed.
With his power, he's taken over dozens of other nations, ruled with an iron fist, and taken what he desired. But the most important of all; he tore down nobility and those who claimed to be royals.
A scar had split his right cheek, and his once-wild eyes had grown colder and more keen. He wore black armor, crafted from ancient dragon bone and ebony metal.
Upon the walls of his throne room hung relics from fallen enemies; swords, staffs, and masks of broken monarchs.
Darylion stood beside him, older now too, his beard was thick and streaked with gray.
"Our scouts report another merchant caravan trying to slip past our border." He said.
"Seize the cargo." Vrunemir replied. "Half to the people. The rest to the army."
Darylion paused.
"They claim to be neutral, your grace. Refugees from the Southern Empire."
Vrunemir looked up slowly.
"There is no neutral in a world built on hunger. Only those who take, and those who die."
Darylion bowed his head.
"As you will."
Silence returned, broken only by the crackling of flames.
Vrunemir rose from his throne and strode to the edge of the chamber, where a window looked out over the city.
This was the kingdom he made; one where no noble name ruled above another.
Where orphans and former beggars stood as captains, where criminals turned commanders.
He had torn down the old world, and in its place, built one of sheer will. But things would change on this fateful day.
Darylion didn't notice it at first, but the shadows by the columns thickened, and the torchlight bent backward unnaturally.
Something was coming—an overwhelming force that could drive any mortal man insane from merely being within their presence.
Darlyion reached for his sword, but it was too late.
A shape unfurled from the shadows like liquid.
Cloaked in a dark cape with noble clothes, their eyes were glowing red. It took many guards in the throne room by surprise; this figure managed to slip past their security.
Count Dracula.
Lord of the Night.
King of Chaos.
"Guards!" Darylion shouted, sword drawn in a flash.
But Vrunemir lifted a hand, halting them in their tracks.
"…Stand down!"
Darylion froze mid-step, wide-eyed.
"Your grace…?"
Vrunemir's eyes never left the figure before him.
"If he wanted us dead, we'd already be ash. I know this man.
Dracula smiled faintly with lips red as wine.
"Well said, child of violence."
He strode forward as his boots were silent upon the ground.
Vrunemir approached him from the window, like a predator meeting another.
"You slipped through every barrier, every eye. Just to talk?" He asked.
Dracula halted a few feet away.
"I'm one with the shadows, child. I go where I please. I have been watching you for some time." The vampire said with an amused voice. "You remind me of who I was… before the Other Gods graced me with knowledge."
"You came to compare past lives?"
"I came." Dracula said, "To offer you understanding."
Vrunemir narrowed his eyes.
"Understanding?"
Dracula began to walk the perimeter of the chamber with his fingertips brushing along the relics of Vrunemir's conquered foes.
"You built this kingdom from ashes. You shaped it with rage, crowned it with fire. But you still seek meaning, don't you?"
Vrunemir's gaze sharpened.
"I gave it meaning."
Dracula turned back toward him.
"No. You gave it purpose. But not meaning. That still escapes you."
For only a heartbeat, there was silence before Dracula continued.
"The nobles you butchered were never the enemy. Nor the empires you resist. The true tyrant is this world's illusion—the lie that order matters. That good can be defined. That justice can be earned."
He stepped closer, lowering his voice.
"You know it. Deep down. Chaos is truth. And you, Vrunemir, are its chosen son."
Vrunemir said nothing, but something shifted in his eyes.
"Have you ever wondered why you still feel hungry, even now?" Dracula asked. "Why does the throne feel hollow? It is because you have not accepted your role."
Vrunemir didn't want to admit it, but it is true.
{Even after conquering this kingdom and butchering the nobles, everything still felt empty. I couldn't describe it, but Dracula had a point.}
{I had so much power in my hands. I wanted to use it to change the world, but power means nothing in the grand scheme of things. I wanted knowledge. Just knowledge of the world; to understand why? Why does evil exist, why do people suffer? What's the point of all of this?"}
{Dracula knew that's what I desired. He was a man who could read someone's heart.}
"I once asked the same questions." Dracula said, brushing his fingers along a shattered war mask mounted on the wall. "Why must pain be the foundation of civilization? Why does every peace require a graveyard to support it? At the time I was known we Vlad, a curious child with no knowledge of the world. That is why I sought it; wanting to learn about history, and how this world came to be. And what is the meaning of life?"
Vrunemir didn't speak, he only listened.
"But then, they came to me during the Mystical Age. The Other Gods. Grotesque, otherworldly creatures. They offered me endless knowledge, but in return, I brought chaos to Midgard. After that… I was bestowed Chaos Magic."
Dracula's expression darkened.
"With such power, I fulfilled their deeds, and then I realized the truth of existence. Laws, Order, and Balance are nothing more than an illusion." Dracula turned to face Vrunemir. "The true meaning of life is Chaos, Vrunemir. Chaos is what defines everything. It is what opposes creation and destruction. It is what gives life meaning."
He took a step closer to Vrunemir, who stood still but tense, like a soldier facing something older than battle.
"I chose chaos because it is honest." He said. "Because it does not pretend to be merciful or fair. Because it does not beg you to kneel before it with prayers or apologies. Chaos asks nothing of you, except that you accept what is real."
Vrunemir's jaw clenched.
"And what is real?" He asked.
Dracula smiled faintly.
"Suffering. Hunger. Desire. The thirst to rise above. You knew it when you were a child scraping blood from the frostbitten hills. You knew it when your bandit brothers died beside you in ditches with no graves. You knew it when the nobles laughed at your pleas. That was real."
He stepped closer.
"And yet you still built this kingdom on ideals. You thought if you became the tyrant, you could fix what the tyrants had broken."
Dracula's voice carried disappointment.
"But you cannot fix a lie with another lie. You must burn the script. Tear it from the root."
Vrunemir stared into his eyes, and for the first time in years, he felt that same icy pit in his chest he had known as a child; recognition.
{He was right. I had become the very thing I hated… but not because I was weak. Because I thought I could control the story. I thought I could change this world and enact justice. But I was wrong. Justice is a fool's idea.}
"I know what you're thinking." Dracula said. "You still believe you can use power to change the world. But power is not a tool, Vrunemir. It's a disease. It grows and it feeds and it lies to you in your own voice."
He circled Vrunemir slowly, like a shadow orbiting flame.
"Chaos doesn't follow laws like destruction or creation; it follows itself. It is the source of freedom, nothing can bind it, and nothing can shape its incomprehensible nature. That is true freedom. That is the freedom I want for this world! And once everyone experiences it, they'll never go back."
{All this time, I tried to become something greater. Not just a king or a tyrant, but a symbol.}
{But Dracula was right. Power didn't change anything, it just dressed the pain in new robes.}
Vrunemir lifted his gaze slowly.
His voice, when it came, was low but clear.
"…And if I accept this freedom?" He asked. "What becomes of this kingdom?"
Dracula's crimson eyes glowed.
"It will rot, like all false thrones must. You built it on conquest and idealism, on the hope that you could change this world. Let it crumble. Let it be reborn in something real. Let Chaos devour it."
He turned toward the window, peering out over the city.
"Give them freedom, Vrunemir. Not structure. Not rules. Let them face the storm of chaos, and choose their own truth. Let them know what it means to live without the lie of justice. Chaos is the only path to freedom."
Vrunemir joined him, standing shoulder to shoulder with the Lord of Chaos.
The city below was silent, and the warmth of belief had long since faded.
His people no longer feared the outside; they feared him.
"…And if I follow this path," He said slowly. "What does that make me?"
Dracula did not answer at first, but when he did, his voice was soft and almost reverent.
"It makes you free, Vrunemir. In 5 more years, I'll begin my All Chaos Plan, alongside a Great Mage by the name of Merlin. You must join us, and listen well. That is when we will begin spreading the might of Chaos across this world, to rebuild it anew. When that time comes, join us."
{Everything I built… it was never for them. It was for the boy I used to be. The one who crawled through the snow with empty hands and a heart full of rage. I thought power could fill the void. I thought killing the nobles and creating order for the weak and starving could change everything.}
{But the hunger had remained. Even now, in victory, I still wake up in the middle of the night with that same question burning in my chest: Why?}
Why had it never been enough?
{And now… Dracula stood beside me like a mirror I'd never dared to look into.}
"The All Chaos Plan…" Vrunemir muttered. "What does it entail?"
"It is a revelation."
His voice deepened with truth.
"The Age of Empires will die. Nobles, mages, rulers, they will fall as they begin to understand the truth. We will unmask the illusion they built. We will show the world the truth of chaos: that it was never the enemy, only the honest face behind the curtain. Order will finally crumble in our hands."