Chapter 12: Teacher
I slipped into the clothes I found in the closet – simple black pants and a dark shirt. Exiting the room, I found myself facing a stark contrast to the warmth of the dining hall. It was dark outside, the silence broken only by the faint whine of the wind. Not even a cricket chirped, adding to the unnerving stillness.
There, in the center of the courtyard, was the woman I was supposed to call "mom." Or maybe not mom, not yet. She floated in a meditative pose, bathed in the ethereal glow of the moon. My breath hitched. She looked different from the woman I had seen earlier, reclining by the fire. Now, she exuded an aura of power that chilled me to the bone.
She descended gracefully, landing soundlessly. The red dress she wore flowed around her like liquid fire, her black hair cascading down her back. Her crimson eyes glinted with a spark that both terrified and mesmerized me.
"I believe it's time for an introduction," she announced, her voice echoing in the vast courtyard. "I wear many titles, but for now, you need only remember one. I am Verona Isolde Nox, the Vampire Queen."
A Queen. The idolized figure from the novel, the one who remained a shadow, finally stood before me. My throat felt dry. "To you," she continued, her voice softening slightly, "I will be your teacher, and in time, your mother. Do you accept?"
The weight of her words settled on me like a physical force. This was a chance, an opportunity beyond anything I could have imagined. Without thinking, I dropped to my knees, my head bowed in respect. "Yes... master," I rasped, the word a foreign but somehow fitting title.
A small smile curved her lips. "Good," she said, the authority returning to her voice. "I did say I'd change your name someday, but that can wait. For now, I'll call you what comes to mind."
"Theory only today," she declared, a hint of disappointment in her voice. "My usual training methods are a touch too… vigorous for a human body in its current state." I blinked, confused. If it was just theory, why were we outside under the pale moonlight?
"But why are we outside for theory?" I thought, a flicker of suspicion nagging at me.
Verona, seemingly oblivious to my internal debate, continued. "You see, there's was a little… complication with your soul and body. A curse, you might say. It split your soul and it ended up in another world for some reason, it also is hindering your body's ability to absorb and manipulate mana and also ate away part of your memories. And your mana veins – a complete mess.
Clogged, some even permanently shut down from disuse. Not good."
She knelt before me, her gaze sharp. "Today, we'll rectify that. By hand." A shiver ran down my spine at the casual way she mentioned such a potentially dangerous procedure.
"Wait," I stammered, "what exactly are you going to do?" A bad feeling began to bloom in my stomach.
"Today, I'll be manually unblocking them," she explained. "Think of it as a system reboot." I wasn't sure what rebooting a system felt like, but it didn't sound pleasant. "And," she continued, a mischievous glint in her crimson eyes, "to save time, I'll also be causing an artificial awakening of your elements."
Wait, elements? Like fire and water? This was getting more fantastical by the minute. Before I could voice my confusion, she was already issuing instructions. "Sit down and remove your shirt."
I hesitated, self-conscious about my skinny frame. "Okay," I finally mumbled, pulling the shirt off.
Queen Verona's eyes narrowed for a brief moment. "Don't worry," she said, her voice surprisingly gentle. "With proper training and mana manipulation, you'll bulk up in no time."
Right. More training. I did as instructed, settling onto the cold stone floor. "This might hurt," she warned. "Brace yourself."
Hurt? Try excruciating agony. The moment her cold hand touched my back, a wave of icy energy ripped through me. It wasn't just cold, this felt like being ripped apart from the inside out!. Panic clawed at my throat. I wanted to scream, to writhe, to do anything to escape the searing pain.
But as if anticipating my reaction, ice chains materialized around me, binding me in place.
"Endure," Queen Verona commanded, her voice a distant echo in the roaring storm of pain engulfing me.
The minutes stretched into an eternity. Each gasp for breath felt like a betrayal, each whimper a sign of weakness. I squeezed my eyes shut, gritting my teeth until they threatened to shatter. Just when I thought I couldn't take another second, the pain started to recede. Slowly, the icy tendrils withdrew, leaving behind a dull ache that pulsed through my body.
Verona straightened, a satisfied smile playing on her lips. "You've done well," she said, her voice cool. "For now, rest. We have much more to cover."
Rest? All I wanted was to crawl into a corner and whimper until the throbbing in my body subsided. Was this truly what being a vampire's apprentice entailed? I knew living here in this world would be hard but I'm just at the starting line and I feel like quitting this race.
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[ Verona POV]
I watched him writhe on the cold stone floor, crawling away with a desperate, animalistic whimper. The pain etched on his face was raw, but I felt no guilt. This world chewed the weak up and spat them out. To survive, to stand a chance against the coming demons, he needed to be forged in fire.
He wouldn't break this time, not entirely. But break him I would, again and again, until the cracks became lines of resilience, not weakness. The real training, the one that would push him to the brink and beyond, awaited him after his transformation.
His meals will be infused with my blood, alongside specially prepared ingredients – a potent concoction made from the flesh of powerful beasts, a cocktail of raw strength.
But shaping the body was the easy part. My real concern lay in his spirit. Could his will endure the crucible I was preparing? Would he crumble under the relentless pressure, or would he emerge hardened, tempered into a weapon? A flicker of concern crossed my mind, a foreign sensation.
The curse had been a surprise. Rebuilding his mana veins from scratch, weaving my own essence with his flesh, had been a challenging task, amplifying the pain tenfold. But the hidden reward was worth it. Ice and Gravity. Unique elements that, if mastered, could make him a force to be reckoned with. A terrifying enemy, even.
A thrill coursed through me – a morbid excitement for the potential he held.
But beneath the anticipation lay another truth. , When I met him he was in tattered cheap clothes and skinny. It's clear he's had a has life give how weak and young he is. He was a survivor, yes, but a victim nonetheless. Now, he was mine. My son, in a way I hadn't anticipated.
The weight of that responsibility settled on my shoulders. I wouldn't just train him to fight, I would train him to never be a victim again. He would become strong, not just physically, but mentally, emotionally. A predator.
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