«Do you plan to stay there dazed all evening? So, Lyon, tell —what do you think? Isn’t she just a delicious little morsel now?»
Ayra asks with overwhelming enthusiasm, right after returning from the long day of relaxation with Ginevra.
I freeze, breathless, at the sight of Ginevra. She is... beautiful. Not that she wasn’t before, to be clear. But now—completely restored and properly made-up—she’s truly on another level. Her splendid blue eyes are enhanced by light yet precise makeup that makes them stand out even more, and her brown hair—just yesterday dry and frayed—is now smooth, tidy, and radiant. And her face... wow. According to Ayra, the scars left by her mistress’s jealousy were completely removed by a special cream with almost miraculous properties, instantly healing any abrasion without leaving a trace.
«Lyon, say sothing, co on!» Ayra insists, clearly annoyed by my prolonged and silent contemplation.
«Y-You look... really good, Ginevra,» I murmur, a bit embarrassed, eting her gaze timidly—I’ve never been good at giving complints.
«T-Thanks...» Ginevra replies, just as timidly—if not even more so—but with a stunning smile on her face. The joy of feeling, even for just one day, like a woman again—and not rely a puppet ant only to fight—is clearly written across her radiant expression.
«After ten hours of suffering and hard work, and that’s the best you can say? Pff.» Ayra snorts. «Since you clearly can’t appreciate other people’s efforts, I’ll take her back to her mistress. I’ll be back in a flash—anwhile, you wait for here. Lately I’ve been neglecting you a lot, so tonight we’ll make up for all the lost ti...with a training session that’ll go on late into the night!»
«Yuppie... I’m so thrilled...» (Not really. Not at all.)
And then—FLASH. Ayra vanishes in an instant, taking Ginevra with her.
***
«BloodWord: Interius!»
A beam of red light bursts from the palm of my hand, striking one of the rocks in front of —one that looks like a small mountain—and carving a deep hole into it, though not piercing through.
For this special night training session, Ayra dragged into the middle of what could easily be mistaken for the Grand Canyon National Park—a semi-desert expanse scattered with countless rocky peaks.
Unlike the other tis, the recoil only makes stumble back a few steps, without flinging backward—proof that, little by little, I’m learning to control it properly.
After two straight hours of training, fatigue starts to kick in, and the fact that I’m usually already asleep by this ti definitely doesn’t help. Not to ntion this morning’s training, which is still weighing on my muscles... who knows how Gerard is doing with his special spiritual retreat alongside Roxy, locked in her cell since this afternoon. Twenty-four straight hours kneeling in prayer is only the first step to approaching the DivineLight...
«Well, definitely better than the last two Interius you cast, but you’re still far from mastering it properly. We’ll keep training this spell until you can pierce that rock in a single shot.»
«Pierce it in one shot...? That’s impossible!» I exclaim, baffled by her absurd request. «I’m sure not even the most powerful of vampires would be able to do that!»
«BloodWord: Interius!»
Never mind.
Even though she just used the exact sa BloodWord as , the result was completely different—it almost looked like a different spell altogether. The beam from her hand was much narrower than mine—at least half the size, if not more—and a brighter, sharper red. And the final result... well, it speaks for itself.
A precise, perfectly circular hole pierces the massive rock from one side to the other. What leaves even more speechless is that the rock she struck was much larger and thicker than the one I attacked... and judging by how effortlessly she cast that Blood Word, she probably didn’t even try that hard.
Ayra has really beco strong after her training with Clotilde!
«To be able to cast Interius again, we’ll have to wait another hour. In the anti, we’ll go back to refining your sword skills,» Ayra says, and I comply, picking up the sword I had briefly set down.
She signals for to attack, and I comply, unleashing every ounce of the Visanguis, leaving a purple trail with each movent. This is another aspect she’s making work on.
Well-controlled energy shouldn’t leave any trails but stay compact around the user’s body—sothing Ayra only recently explained to . Not just her strength, but also her knowledge and skills as a trainer have grown trendously over these past weeks.
This scene reminds of the first night spent at the beautiful lake she holds so dear. Even then, we faced each other in a training sword duel and it ended with my ’victory’—if you can call it that—after knocking her down with a trick using Obice. Her current strikes, though adjusted to match my present strength, are on a completely different level in terms of precision and posture compared to that night’s—who knows, maybe even her reflexes have improved...
«BloodWord: Obice!»
A disc of red energy materializes between us, just a hair’s breadth from her moving blade—a fraction of a second more, and it’ll strike my defensive spell... but Ayra’s slash shifts direction so fast I can’t even follow it with my eyes, and a mont later, I find myself disard—with the tip of her sword at my throat.
But how... what... what the heck just happened?!
«You won’t fool twice with the sa trick, Lyon,» Ayra mutters with a smile of amusent and self-satisfaction...
Her ego hasn’t changed one bit—if anything, it’s probably grown right along with her strength...
«Co on, pick up your weapon and let’s get back to fighting.»
—TING! TING!
The sharp jingles and sparks of our blades fill the night air.
«Ginevra’s truly a beautiful girl, inside and out. Wouldn’t you agree?» Ayra asks between one clash and the next.
«Y-Yeah, but... what does that have to do with anything right now?» I reply, my voice tired.
«Today at the wellness center, she and I did nothing but talk about you... I think she’s starting to develop a crush on you, you know?»
—TING! TING!
«She likes ? Don’t be ridiculous! I seriously doubt she said anything like that to you!»
«Indeed, she didn’t. But I could tell from the tone of her voice, the way her eyes lit up when she talked about you, and all the praise she gave you. My female intuition never fails!»
Modest as always... Then again, why is she telling sothing like that? It almost feels like she’s trying to push into Ginevra’s arms... but what’s in it for her? Bah, won really are a mystery...
«So... do you like Ginevra?»
«W-What kind of question is that...?» I stamr, caught off guard by her words. «She’s undeniably a beautiful girl with many great qualities, but saying I like her—that’s a whole different thing... And why are you suddenly ddling in my private life?! What is this, a side job as a marriage consultant?»
«I think I’m the least suitable person in the world for that job...» she replies, smiling as always—though I could’ve sworn I saw a flicker of lancholy in her eyes. I must’ve imagined it because I’m tired.
A flash of red light suddenly interrupts our training.
But what...?
Standing next to us is Countess Alia Dulcar—and curled up at her feet... Ginevra.
My heart skips a beat, and a knot tightens in my stomach at the sight.
Ginevra’s face, radiant and enchanting just a few hours ago, is now a mask of blood, completely disfigured and torn by countless wounds—so of them quite serious. But that’s not all. She’s completely naked, curled up with her knees to her chest to cover herself as best she can, her entire body ravaged from head to toe by deep lacerations, while Alia yanks her by the hair so hard that entire locks are torn out. Her expression... the sa look of despair she showed for a brief mont when we were trapped in the underground of the old dormitory—but now amplified a hundredfold. The look of soone who has endured a terrible, unspeakable trauma.
Instinctively, I look away, overwheld by that oppressive and horrifying sight, as my eyes grow glossy with anger and frustration.
«Don’t you dare do sothing like that to my familiar ever again, or it’ll be even worse for you! And I don’t care if you’re a princess!» Alia bursts out—a rather stocky woman with short, curly black hair and a noticeably pronounced nose—though she’s probably around Ayra’s age, maybe even younger, she looks at least twice as old. And not in a flattering way.
Ayra watches her for several seconds with a cold yet slightly puzzled gaze, without ignoring the emotion stirred by the sight of Ginevra’s battered body—a coldness likely necessary when dealing with a vampire—especially one as cruel as Countess Alia.
«Oh, really? And let’s hear it—what exactly did I do that’s so serious?»
«And you have the nerve to ask that?! Tonight my husband gave her all his attention—he didn’t take his eyes off her for a single mont! He even insisted that I not take her back to the dormitory... but even that I should order her to sleep in our very bed! That stupid slut dared use her beauty to seduce the husband of a noble vampire like ... and it’s all your fault!»
In response, Ayra shrugs with indifference.
«What fault does she have if you’re as ugly as sin?» She retorts with biting sarcasm.
At those words, Alia completely loses it.
«H-How dare you insult like that?! I... I... challenge you to a JudiciumSanguinis!»
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