"Very well…" Serafall's voice sounded light, almost carefree, as she observed Victor in front of her.
The young vampire was completely drenched in sweat. His muscles trembled, his breath came in irregular bursts, and his knees threatened to give way at any moment.
"It seems you've finally reached your limit, boy." She concluded naturally.
Victor let his body fall seated on the stone floor, supporting himself with his hands behind him to avoid falling. His gaze, blurred by exhaustion, still struggled to maintain some focus.
"You… always train like this?" He asked between breaths. Part of him wanted to understand. The other part tried to figure out how this woman seemed so… much bigger than in the memories he had before falling ill; in his memories, she was… small.
Serafall let out a small sigh. "No, normally it's much worse."
She took a few steps forward and continued: "Promising beginners often settle for basic Valentine training. After all, according to the world… 'Valentine Vampires are absolute.'"
There was a slight hint of disdain in the last word.
"But we both know that's a convenient lie."
Then she turned her back to him.
Victor frowned.
There was a scar there… thin, jagged, running across part of his back like the trace of a single claw. At first glance it seemed small. But it wasn't.
He realized that size was deceiving. The flesh around it had been rebuilt. Regenerated. Forced to close something much larger. Still, dark spots marked the spot, as if the blood itself had resisted healing.
"This…" Victor murmured.
"Was done by that damned Fenrir." Serafall admitted, her voice now colder.
Fenrir, the strongest Werewolf. At least, that was the title of the man who led the Werewolves, the natural enemies of the Vampires.
"So~" Victor began, and she interrupted him abruptly, "I lost." She spoke and then looked at him, "Being the strongest means something, right? I'm not the strongest Vampire. That's why I trained."
"Trained…" He said softly, realizing… "You stopped training?"
"Yes, since you were born." She agreed with a smile. "Don't feel guilty about it, in fact, these last sixteen years have been the best of my life."
He was there again… That woman, it made sense that she seemed so small in the future, because she really only had eyes for him. From the beginning, she lived only with him and for him. No one else in this world.
"I understand… I have to get strong to protect my mother when she gets weak," Victor said smiling, as if exhaustion was draining from his body. Those little words made her laugh uncontrollably, causing the ground and pillars to tremble.
"M-mom!" Victor said quickly, but she continued laughing uncontrollably.
It took a few more minutes for her to recover, panting. "Haah… ahh, how fun," she said, smiling, and told him, "How about first, you start making a name for yourself before saying something so absurd?"
"Make a name for yourself?" he questioned.
Serafall agreed and said, "Currently, you are the worst valentine in the family's existence since the grading system was created. That, in itself, says a lot. Start by fixing that." She said calmly.
Victor looked at her… "And?"
"And what?" Serafall questioned, "Are you trying to get me to give you the answer too? Do you want to make another deal?"
"N-no, absolutely not." He said and turned his face away. "Petty," he murmured softly. "Super-Hearing, want to get punched with super strength too?" She questioned, holding his head. "Are you trying to die?" She smiled demonically, a sadistic and mischievous smile!!
"S-Sorry, ma'am." Victor lowered his head.
Serafall let go and said, "You're bad at everything, become good at everything. Just like that." She spoke and turned as she walked towards the exit door. "Let's go, the sun is about to rise, you have class." She said.
Victor slowly began to stand up; she was right, first it would be good to clear up this reputation of being the worst of all time.
As soon as he could steady his legs, Victor stood up. His body still protested, his muscles burning as if they were being torn apart from the inside, but he ignored it. He needed to get out of there before he simply collapsed.
He took a few steps towards the exit.
Then he felt it.
A wind.
Cold. Cutting. Impossible. A shiver ran down his spine like invisible fingers.
"But what—?" He turned his head, his eyes wide.
It didn't make sense. They were underground. Miles below the surface. There were no windows. No drafts.
Another breeze blew—this time behind him.
Victor turned abruptly.
His eyes landed on the enormous steel door at the end of the hallway. A grotesquely heavy structure, unadorned, without symbol, without any explanation. His mother had never commented on it.
"What is that…?" He murmured.
"Hey, let's go?" Serafall's voice echoed from the stairs. "What are you doing standing there?"
Victor didn't take his eyes off the door.
"What's behind that door?"
Serafall frowned. "What door?"
He blinked, confused, and pointed. "That one over there— Huh?"
There was nothing.
The wall was smooth. Cold. Continuous.
The door simply… didn't exist.
Serafall stared at him for a few seconds before sighing. "Stop the games. Let's go." And she started climbing the stairs.
"What was that…?" Victor murmured to himself, but forced his feet to move.
"Blood."
The word echoed within his mind.
It wasn't an external sound. It didn't come from the hallway. It was intimate. Close. As if it had been whispered within his own veins.
He turned again.
"Stop joking—"
The door was there.
Imposing. Real. Heavy.
And the instant his eyes touched the metal, an avalanche of memories hit him.
The wind.
The smell of iron.
The screams.
The day.
That damned day.
The day the Valentine clan's base was exterminated.
He had felt that same wind before. The premonition. The unnatural silence before the carnage.
The air grew heavier.
"Holy shit…" Victor whispered, his heart racing not from exhaustion, but from recognition.
He took a step toward the door.
"You… are trapped here?" he asked in a low voice.