"Okay, come here and get into your stance."
Snapped out of her thoughts, Zara hurried onto the training field. She spread her legs slightly and held the wooden sword with both hands, her grip firm.
"I'm ready."
Nyssa raised an eyebrow, observing her posture. With a sigh, she suddenly stepped forward and gave Zara a light smack on the head with the flat of her sword.
"Ouch!" Zara yelped, clutching her head and staring at Nyssa in confusion. "What was that for?"
Nyssa crossed her arms, her expression unimpressed.
"Zara, we're vampires. High-class vampires, at that. We have way more strength than regular ones. But your stance—it fights against your natural abilities. That posture might work for a human... but for us?"
She pointed her sword lazily at Zara's legs.
"Your footing is too wide, and your grip is too stiff. You're trying to fight like a human soldier, but that'll only get you killed when someone moves faster than your eyes can track."
Zara blinked, her expression gradually turning serious.
"Then how should I stand?"
Nyssa smirked and walked over, adjusting Zara's legs and repositioning her arms gently.
"Hold your sword like you're about to sprint—not like you're planting a flag. Your power is in your speed. Adapt to it. Move like a shadow, strike like a storm."
Zara felt the difference in balance as her stance shifted—tighter, more mobile, almost like she was mid-run.
"Whoa... this feels different."
"Good. Now let's see if you can keep that stance when I'm actually coming at you." Nyssa's smile turned wicked as she raised her sword again.
Zara focused intently on Nyssa—only for her to vanish in an instant.
A gust of wind rushed toward her head.
"There!"
She instinctively raised her sword, just in time to block the strike. The impact pushed her back slightly, her arms trembling from the force.
Too fast… I barely saw her move!
Nyssa halted her slash mid-air, eyes narrowing with curiosity. She pulled back and stepped away, an intrigued smile tugging at her lips.
"Huh… So you could block that. Not bad. That was about three percent of my real speed and strength."
Zara blinked. "Three percent?!"
Nyssa chuckled and crossed her arms."Your healing ability—it's awakened, hasn't it?"
Zara furrowed her brows, confused for a moment. But then she remembered what her father once told her:"A true vampire, especially of noble blood, has rapid healing. Once it activates, you'll know."
Zara slowly nodded. "I think… yes."
She touched her chin, where Nyssa had left a bruise the other day. The skin was smooth now—flawless. No pain. No mark.
Nyssa suddenly smirked. Without warning, she slashed her sword across Zara's upper arm.
"Aghh!" Zara cried out, grabbing her bleeding arm.
But within seconds, the wound closed, leaving nothing behind but shredded fabric and a faint tingle. Her eyes widened as she looked down at her arm.
"It… healed… That fast?"
Nyssa grinned. "Welcome to the next stage, little vampire."
Zara looked at Nyssa, her brows furrowed in confusion.
"What do you mean by 'next stage'?"
Nyssa didn't answer immediately. Instead, she began casually twirling her sword with one hand, the blade slicing the air in clean arcs.
Zara watched her, puzzled, a creeping sense of unease settling in her chest.
Nyssa finally replied, her voice calm and almost amused."As a vampire, you need to learn to control your pain. If you don't, you'll lose your mind in real combat. Pain tolerance isn't a skill—it's a necessity."
Zara swallowed. "How am I supposed to control that?"
Nyssa's grin widened, and her eyes gleamed with excitement.
"Oh, that's the easy part. I'll just beat you until you do. Don't worry, it'll only take a few months. While I'm at it, I'll teach you weapons, defense, and how not to die in the first ten seconds of a real fight."
Zara's eyes widened just as Nyssa vanished again.
In a blur, pain erupted all over Zara's body.
"Aghhhhhh!" she screamed, collapsing to her knees. Cuts and bruises marred her skin—blood dripping from every inch of her. The pain was overwhelming.
But before she could even register it fully… the injuries vanished. Her body healed completely, leaving her gasping and trembling in shock.
Heavy footsteps echoed.
Zara looked up—and saw Nyssa standing in front of her, unfazed.
"See?" Nyssa said with a smirk. "That's how you'll learn. If I waited for war to teach you, you'd be dead before your second breath."
She leaned in slightly, her voice now stern.
"So stand up, Zara. This is just the beginning."
Zara stood up slowly, using her sword for support. Though her wounds had healed, her body still trembled—drained of stamina and strength. Her legs wobbled, but she gritted her teeth and forced herself upright.
She looked at Nyssa, who once again spun her sword effortlessly in her hand, her expression unreadable.
"I really don't like this kind of pain," Zara muttered under her breath, panting slightly.
Nyssa stopped mid-spin, resting the sword on her shoulder.
"Don't worry, girl," she said with a faint smirk. "You'll get used to it. Sooner or later, your body will adapt—and then you'll be thanking me."
Zara didn't respond. Her hands were numb from gripping the sword for so long, her muscles ached, and her arms felt like they'd been hit by hammers. But she refused to fall again.
For the rest of the day, she was battered—physically and mentally. Nyssa didn't hold back, slashing at her with calculated precision, correcting her form, and barking advice between blows.
Every time Zara collapsed, she was forced to stand again. Every strike came with a lesson, and every lesson came with pain.
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In the quiet system space, Fluff stared blankly at the screen, his tiny paw propped under his chin.
[Ahh, I'm bored… meow.]
Meow, curled up beside him and half-asleep, cracked open one of her glowing red eyes at the sound of Fluff's voice.
[Yeah, Fluff… I'm bored too. But not as much as you.]
Fluff turned his head and gave her a flat look, eyeing her lazy posture.
[That's because you're lazier than me.]
[Huh? What did you just say?] Meow's ears perked up, her expression sharpening with mock offense.
Fluff waved his paw quickly, his fur bristling.
[Oh! I meant the host still has years to go before she can leave for Elarion!]
Meow narrowed her eyes, then huffed and flopped back into her spot, crossing her paws with a dramatic sigh.
[Yeah… I'm just waiting for the war to start. That's when she'll really grow stronger.]
With synchronized boredom, the two fluffed-up spirits rested their heads on the table and closed their eyes again, drifting into silence.
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On a vast island floating through the dark void of space, cascading waterfalls poured from its edges—only to mysteriously rise back up, cycling endlessly into the land above. Majestic halls stretched across the terrain, and towering statues of warriors wielding swords stood as silent sentinels. People moved gracefully through the area, clad in flowing blue or white robes that shimmered faintly with mana.
At the heart of the island stood a massive golden castle. Inside its grand hall, a man sat upon a towering throne carved from celestial stone. He wore an ancient armor that gleamed with runes of forgotten power. A black patch covered one of his eyes, while the other remained closed in deep thought. His long, silver-streaked beard gave him an aura of timeless wisdom.
The heavy doors creaked open, and a middle-aged woman stepped into the hall. Her golden hair flowed like sunlight, and her eyes gleamed with the same radiant hue. Her presence was both graceful and commanding.
As she approached, the man opened his remaining eye. Its gaze was sharp as a blade, honed by centuries of war and leadership.