I used my Blood Magic to form a bastard sword. Nothing fancy in my opinion, just a straight blade, double-edged, the kind you'd see in a medieval museum or a fantasy poster, but I can also say that I was inspired by the shows I've watched while having a meal on 'Forged in Fire'. I'd seen enough of them online in my first life to hold the image in my head.
Blood welled from my palm, thickened, and stretched into shape. I stood there, breathing hard, and let the weight of it settle—I was getting better at all of this Vampire stuff. It solidified with a weight that felt wrong—too light, maybe, or too balanced? Hard to tell when you'd never held a real sword before. But the feeling was far better than my previous 'adventures' with the demonic sword.
Lucky me, the scar on my right arm had been removed once I entered my Vampire form. The regeneration of an immortal bloodsucker couldn't allow even a small blemish on that pale skin.
And what can I say about the sword… Well, it would kill for sure.
My approach for this spar against the Silent Swordsman was to absorb as much experience from him as possible. For this to happen, I had to stay in my base form.
If I wanted to learn swordsmanship, I had no reason to rely on the boost of my Vampire form just to prove a point in winning overwhelmingly against Silent. Once my skills with the sword, and any weapon that can kill someone on that matter, grow to a decent level, then combining it with my Vampire strength and agility would make me a worthy challenger.
But first, I had to learn how not to stab myself.
Silent Swordsman stood across the clearing, his blade already drawn. He'd watched me form the weapon without moving, without speaking, without any reaction at all. His visor caught the moonlight, but I could feel him watching and waiting for our duel to begin.
He raised his blade, pointed it at me as if to have me initiate the fight, and I didn't shy away, lunging at him.
The distance closed fast—faster than I expected, or maybe he was closer than I'd thought. My sword cut toward his shoulder, and for a moment I thought I had him.
The boy sidestepped, and with my enhanced vision I noticed the small details of his steps. Just a single step that put him exactly where my blade wasn't. Even with all the enhancements to my body and my senses, I stumbled past him, my momentum carrying me forward, and I had to plant my feet hard to keep from eating dirt.
I turned, reset, and came at him again.
This time I watched his feet. He didn't move until the last second, and when he did, it was the same step, the same efficiency in movement. My blade passed through empty space, and I was already correcting, bringing the sword around—
He parried. His blade met mine with a sharp clang, and I felt it—this wasn't some random sword you could buy from a blacksmith. This sword contained mana that I could finally perceive as our blades met in a clash. To my disappointment, a chip in my blood sword appeared while a crack started to spread from the impact point. The blood construct was holding, but it wasn't as durable as steel, and it spoke to how much a beginner I was in the Blood Arts.
Well, in my defense, my teacher/girlfriend is more of a brawler and she hadn't bothered with this subject because back then I was more human than I am now as a Vampire.
Noticing the crack spread, I pulled back and checked the edge. It was a notch, maybe a quarter inch deep, nonetheless, I could still make good use of it and learn as much from this duel.
Surprisingly, Silent waited for me while I paused to check my blood sword.
I gave him a nod and resumed my attacks. Again and again, the pattern repeated , each time it would repeat, but I know that if I turned on my Vampire form, everything would change. I had the advantage in physicality while Silent Swordsman had the experience of a Legendary Warrior from the Yu-Gi-Oh Dimension.
I moved faster than him—I could see it now, the way his feet had to work to keep up with my lunges, the way his blade barely intercepted mine when I got close. But speed didn't matter when I couldn't read him. Every feint was wasted, every opening was a trap.
The blood sword was taking damage. Every block, every parry, every glancing blow left another chip, another crack. The edge was getting ragged, the blade starting to warp. I'd have to reform it soon.
On the fifth exchange, I tried something different. Instead of charging, I walked to create a sense of uncertainty for Silent. Slow, measured steps, my sword held low, my eyes fixed on his center. He didn't move or try to shift his stance; he just stood there waiting for the inevitable.
I feinted left, then cut right.
He parried, and I could see his magic sword igniting with some light-colored runes. My blade shattered as the clash ended.
The blood sword exploded into red mist, shards of frozen crimson scattering across the clearing. For a heartbeat, I was empty-handed, my momentum carrying me forward, his blade already rising, and in that moment I almost pulled the trigger to reveal my Vampire form and teach this brat a lesson.
He was first to use cheats by activating his magic sword so he wouldn't lose, yet , he stopped.
I stood there looking at him with my crimson eyes, my breathing steady, but deep down I felt like shit because of my ego being bruised. My palm was stinging where the blood sword had been anchored this whole duel. The blood mist drifted back toward me, the remnants of my failed construct soaking into my skin, what had been consumed now reclaimed.
'I need to go deeper into Blood Magic and even try to explore my options with the traits of the Shinso Vampires. This sword was so brittle because I lack the substance for building the constructs.'
'Let's redo it, but this time use my imagination and will furthermore.'
'I also need to settle on a shape that feels most comfortable to wield.'
I reformed the blade. This time I shifted away from the mixed look that sat between a bastard sword and a greatsword and went with my gut, visualizing a sword that had made an impression on me since I was younger—a longsword that you could recognize closely as a copy of Alucard's heirloom blade.
This time I poured more mana into it, more Yoki, letting the blood thicken and harden until it felt heavier in my grip. The edge was sharper, the balance better. Sure, it wasn't made of steel, but the iron content of my Vampiric blood and its traits didn't shy away from the properties of steel.
I met his eyes through the visor. "Ready for round two?"
He raised his blade facing me with confidence.
This time, I didn't charge. I watched. The way he stood—weight balanced, knees bent, sword held at an angle that could cut or block in the same motion. His feet, the way they barely moved when he shifted. His hands, the subtle tension that preceded a strike.
I saw it. A fraction of a second before his blade moved, his shoulder dropped. A fraction of a second before he parried, his weight shifted to his back foot.
I moved with him.
His blade came down. I stepped into it, not away, my sword rising in a tight arc that caught his on the crossguard. The impact jarred my arms, but I held, and what was important, my Blood Sword also held strong.
For a moment we were locked together, his face inches from mine. Through the visor, I saw his eyes. They were calm, honest, and without doubt patient in their stillness and silence.
He disengaged, stepped back, and came at me again.
This time, I was ready. His strike was clean, precise, aimed at my shoulder—but I'd seen it coming. I pivoted, my blade rising to meet his, and this time I didn't just block. Instead, I redirected the trajectory of his blade. His sword slid off mine, carried past me, and for the first time, I had an opening.
I took it. Not with the full force I could have mustered, not with the speed I knew I had in my back pocket. I moved deliberately, my sword cutting toward his exposed side in a controlled arc—
His blade was there. He recovered faster than I could follow, turned my strike, and I was the one stumbling back, off balance, my sword wavering.
I caught myself, grinning despite the sweat in my eyes. "You let me have that, didn't you? Let me get close enough to see it, to try it. So I could practice the motion."
He didn't nod. But he didn't raise his blade either. He just stood there, waiting.
"You're not even going to admit it, are you?"
Silent remained… silent, but after a while tilted his head. Then, very deliberately, he raised his blade and tapped the flat against his own shoulder—the same spot I'd been aiming for.
'Yeah. That's what I thought.'
---
We sparred until the blood sword was chipped and cracked again, until my arms were tingling and I could feel the blisters forming—and at the same time healing, my Vampiric regeneration working even in my base form, knitting skin back together as fast as I could damage it. The cycle was almost hypnotic. Hurt, heal, hurt again.
I didn't land a single clean hit. Not once. But I was starting to see the world in different colors, if I could say so myself. The rhythm of combat, the way he moved, the way he turned my own speed against me—it was all there, waiting for me to understand.
By the time I dismissed the sword, letting the blood evaporate back into my skin, I was spent. Not physically—my body could have gone longer. But my mind was exhausted, wrung out from trying to assimilate everything I'd seen, everything I'd failed to do, everything I'd almost understood.
I walked to a tree at the edge of the clearing, its roots twisting up from the ground like something trying to escape. I leaned against it and slid down until I was sitting on the bark. The moon was still up there, not quite full, hanging in the sky like a silver coin someone had forgotten to pocket.
Above me, the half-moon watched. In a few days, it would be full. Gin would make his move.
I let the thought settle. It didn't scare me as much as it had this morning.
'Now I should have more answers if Gin tries something. On me. On the girls.'
I looked across the clearing. Silent Swordsman was still standing, his blade lowered, his breathing almost imperceptible. He had one hand on his sword, using it for support, trying to look as composed as he had when we started. But my senses were too sharp now—I could hear the slight quickening of his breath, see the faint tremor in his grip.
He was young. LV.3. A far cry from the legendary LV.7 form he would one day grow into. But even in this small body, he was deadly. Like a blade still in the forge, not yet finished, but already sharp enough to cut.
"You didn't hold back," I said. "Thank you for giving your all in our sparring. And… for trying to teach me how to use the sword."
No response. But I saw the faint tilt of his head.
I smiled. "Same time tomorrow?"
He raised his blade. Not to point at me—to tap the flat against his own shoulder, then gesture toward mine.
I looked down and had another realization. My stance was completely wrong the entire time. My weight was too far forward, my shoulders too tight, and, yeah, my grip was tense too since wielding a sword was a new thing for me.
I corrected it. "Better?"
He nodded. Once.
Then he stepped back into my shadow, his form dissolving into darkness, leaving only the faint impression of a blade in the moonlight.
[Silent Swordsman LV.3 has been unsummoned.]
'Heh, you are trying to act cool after almost dropping on your knees. Cheeky brat.'
'He might be a cheeky brat now, but his skills with the sword are monstrous. There's no need to squeeze my brain in trying to summon Kenshin, but… I still have to try and summon both Alucards from Castlevania and Hellsing.'
The clearing was empty now, the moonlight falling on trampled grass and the fading scent of blood.
I whistled. Low and sharp.
Kuriboh appeared first, darting out from behind a bush, chirping indignantly. It had been hiding the whole time, watching from the shadows, too nervous to intervene but too loyal to leave.
Kuri!
"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine."
The Familiar emerged next, dropping from a low branch to land on my shoulder. Its tiny claws gripped my collar, and it let out a soft squeak that might have been relief.
The Retainer padded out of the darkness last, its silver-and-black fur catching the moonlight. It circled me once, sniffing, checking for injuries, and when it found none, it sat at my feet and looked up with those patient crimson eyes.
"Everyone accounted for?" I looked around. "Good. Let's go home."
The walk back to the dorm was quiet, but not silent. The Academy had its own night rhythm—nocturnal yokai who preferred the dark hours, clusters of students lingering outside the dorm buildings, their voices carrying in the cool air.
A group of first-years sat on the steps of the girls' dorm, laughing at something on someone's phone. Two upperclassmen passed us on the path, deep in conversation about a professor neither of them liked.
Normal things. High school things.
We passed a cluster of students who glanced at me, then away, but after I walked past them, I could hear with my Vampiric hearing that they were talking about the recent news about Tamao.
If you asked me, this was far better than having them try to guess my identity, and the many tense nights I had to spend in my dorm room, thinking that I would be caught by a upperclassmen who sniffed me out as a human.
Now, it was far more comfortable.
The dorm was quieter than the grounds. Most of the other boys were already in their rooms, the sounds of their activities muffled behind closed doors. I made it to my room without running into anyone, unlocked the door, and stepped inside.
The spiders were still there, tucked into their corners, their eyes glittering in the dark.
"Good work," I muttered, and one of them twitched a leg in acknowledgment.
I closed the door, locked it, and leaned against it for a moment. The room was small, cramped, the same as it had always been.
"I really miss a computer. I could game all night with my new body."
'Since it is 2008, World of Warcraft would be at the Wrath of the Lich King expansion… Does Blizzard even exist in this world? I can't remember from original Tsukune's memories.'
'Hah, the first thing I will do when I return to the human world is to go to some Net Cafes and go all out.'
'I can also corrupt the girls by teaching them how to play Dota and later on LoL.'
I sat on the edge of the bed, my hands resting on my knees, my thoughts drifting while I stared at the moon still visible through the gap in the curtains, not quite full, but looming close.
"You'll be fine…"
"I am on the right track, survived the hellish days when I was at F-tier. Now, as long as I don't fuck things up and take on an impossible opponent, I can reach my full potential and become a powerhouse of this world."