Drusilla walked toward Zephyx, her commanding aura making the air around her feel heavier. She bent down gracefully and picked up the longsword he had dropped, her movents fluid and precise. Holding the blade, she stood with an elegance that radiated authority, as if the sword was not just a tool but a natural extension of her very being.
"Watch closely," she said, her voice calm but firm.
She stepped into a position that radiated power and balance, each move she made considered and calculated. "This is the foundation," she started, as she practiced the fundantals. "Your stance is everything. Without it, you're defenseless. Keep your feet shoulder-width apart, knees bent a little, and your weight distributed—neither too far forward nor backward."
Her own movents seed hypnotic as she guided him through every move. "This is the way you strike," she instructed, pulling off a smooth, precise slash that looked effortless, but was no less deadly. "The blade must move with your montum, not against it."
Then she shifted into a thrust, her motion smooth and efficient. "When you thrust, your entire body is moving with the blade—your arms, shoulders, even your legs. Every part of you is adding to the power of the thrust."
She transitioned seamlessly into a parry, her wrist twisting slightly as she deflected an invisible attack. "And this is how you defend. A parry isn't just about blocking; it's about redirecting the force of your opponent's attack to create an opening for yourself."
She continued, demonstrating slashes, diagonal strikes, side steps, and backward and forward movents, her every action flowing into the next like water.
After finishing, she turned to Zephyx and handed the longsword back. "Now," she said, her crimson eyes narrowing slightly, "show what you've learned."
He took the sword, his grip firr this ti, and tried to replicate what she had demonstrated. His stance wavered, his strikes were unbalanced, and his movents lacked fluidity.
Drusilla's expression hardened. "Sloppy," she snapped, her voice cutting like the blade she wielded. "Again."
He tried once more, focusing on correcting his stance and movents, but it still wasn't enough. She stepped forward, faster than he could react, and struck him with the flat side of her blade across his shoulder, sending him stumbling.
"Don't rely on brute force," she said coldly. "A sword is not a hamr. Again."
The training was brutal. Every ti he faltered, she struck him, sotis with the flat side of her blade, other tis with a quick jab to his ribs or stomach. Each strike left a stinging reminder of his failure. Worse, she forbade him from activating his Crimson Renewal to heal himself, forcing him to endure the pain and fatigue.
Despite the harshness, he persisted. As the hours dragged on, he started grasping the basics. His body started to move more naturally, his stance beca firr, and his strikes gained a semblance of precision.
---
Drusilla's POV:
It was both maddening and awe-inspiring to watch the Zephyx train. Initially, his movents were awkward, as one would expect from a person with no experience. But with each passing mont, she could see a sinister trend—he was learning. Quickly. Too quickly.
With each correction she made, he adapted, his mistakes dwindling with each repetition. By the end of the session, he was already showing signs of grasping the basics.
"This motherfucker," she said to herself, shocked and proud. "If he keeps this up, he'll learn the fundantals in three or four days and here I thought I can torture him for few more weeks."
Returning to his side, she crossed her arms and gave him an appraising look. "You're doing okay," she said, though her voice betrayed a hint of reluctant admiration. "At this rate, you'll have the basics down in a few days."
He straightened, wiping the sweat from his brow. "Thank you," he said simply, his determination evident in his tone.
Drusilla smiled faintly, but her expression shifted as she stepped closer to him. Her voice dropped to a sultry whisper, her lips brushing against his ear. "Now," she murmured, a playful edge in her tone, "it's ti for the drinking. Co to my room."
---
When Zephyx arrived at her room, she was sitting on her bed like usual, but today she had on a see-through lingerie.
He couldn't help but inquire, "What are you wearing?"
She answered with a slight flush on her cheeks, "It's just comfortable to wear this."
He stared at her blankly and exhaled, thinking, "At least try to co up with a better lie."
After he sat in front of her, she ca crawling and sat on his lap, and kissed him.
[A/n: Though you can't say it was a kiss because she was sucking his blood from his lips, but from our MC's POV, if lips touch, it's a kiss. Well, that is my belief also XD.]
Zephyx was shocked at her sudden kiss, but before he could ask, she took out her fangs from his lips and told him, "It's just... it's just more delicious from here."
He sighed and thought, "You're hopeless," and kissed her back. She again started sucking his blood from his lips.
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