Several weeks had passed since the confrontation with Gin, and the rhythm of the Academy had settled into something almost predictable. New days brought new challenges to each of us. Almost too predictable.
My routine had not changed much since I first enrolled inside the Yokai Academy. My daily workout by the Blood River side had become as natural as breathing, a Buddhist mantra chanted through sweat and steel. Every morning, before the sun fully rose, I would be there, pushing my body through exercises that would have killed my former human self. For those who paid attention, I was always on the grind.
It had been a while since Inner Moka and I had defeated Gin, and that confrontation with a full‑powered S‑tier werewolf had been more than enough to open my eyes to the arrogance that had begun creeping into my heart. The victory had tasted sweet, too sweet, and I had started to believe my own hype. Truth be told, it was only human to give birth to such emotions. Humanity, after all, is the origin of the seven deadly sins. And I had descended into Pride.
Being somewhat awakened from that stupor, not that I was lacking people to snap me back to reality, only a well‑placed kick to my ribs from Inner was enough to do the job. Her heel had a way of correcting my posture, both physical and spiritual.
If this were outside the Yokai Academy, I suspected that the recent arrogance I had shown would have been enough to put me in mortal peril. Inside these walls, my growth was steady, controlled. I had time to adapt to my new powers, my physiology, my condition. But I could also imagine that if I had been expelled when I killed Saizo Komiya, my path would have been either glorious or tragic.
I would have flown too close to the sun, by killing all sort of monsters, from Yokais, Stray Devils, Fallen Angels, Devils and whatnot, and be jumped out by all of those factions leading to my death, a tragic death akin to Icarus who tried to touch the Sun.
Either way, as a transmigrator, I had to live life to the fullest. No one knew what the second day had in store.
I had time for these reflections as I took a break from my spar against Silent Swordsman.
That guy was truly worthy of the status of a legendary swordsman. I had managed to upgrade him using my Annihilation Maker to his LV.5 form, based on the latest progress I had made in increasing my Manifestation Levels to (45%) output. Drinking Gin's blood, exchanging DNA samples with Moka (lots of French kissing), and recently using my Vampire Familiars to collect more blood samples from students across the Academy had all contributed.
Silent Swordsman was no longer in his chibi version. Now, he was a late teen, maybe seventeen or eighteen years old, with a lean, powerful build that spoke of countless hours of training and his own sacrifices.
His silver‑and‑blue armor had evolved as well, becoming more intricate, more protective. The helmet still obscured his face, but through the visor, I could see those sharp, focused eyes that missed nothing, and looking at them it reminded me of another legendary warrior that my hand was itching to create and summon.
His flowing cape, the color of midnight, hung from his shoulders, and in his hands he held a massive two‑handed sword that seemed to drink the light.
The blade was etched with runes that glowed faintly whenever he moved. His posture was perfect, as if it was brought from an ancient statue carved by an artisan with the patience of a sage and the lethality of a predator.
He reclined against the flat of his sword, watching me with an expression that, even hidden, conveyed quiet amusement at my disheveled state.
'Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.'
I steadied my breathing, ready for another round of sword fighting.
From the spectator's area, two Vampire Ladies approached me like maids. They were elegant, deadly, and dressed in alluring nobility clothing – dark corsets, flowing skirts, and lace gloves that did nothing to hide the claws beneath. Their crimson eyes were soft with devotion.
The first, a tall woman with raven‑black hair tied in a loose bun, carried a golden goblet filled with blood that gave off a strong Yoki signature. Gin's blood, collected fresh this morning. Her name was Seraphina, and she had a quiet, almost maternal demeanor. She moved with the grace of a noble lady, every step deliberate.
The second, shorter and more impish, had silver hair that cascaded over her shoulders and a perpetual smirk on her lips. Her name was Lilith, the original Vampire Lady that I have summoned when fighting against Gin. She held a soft cloth, already reaching up to wipe the sweat from my brow and adjust the collar of my training clothes.
"Blood King," Seraphina murmured, offering the goblet with a bow. "You have pushed yourself far enough. Please, refresh yourself."
Lilith circled behind me, her fingers brushing my shoulders as she straightened my tunic. "Your form was exquisite today, Majesty. The way you countered his thrust was poetry." She leaned closer, her breath warm against my ear. "But you are tense. Shall I massage your shoulders after this? I have learned many techniques over the centuries that work perfectly to relax a tired warrior."
I took the goblet, trying not to feel too self‑conscious. They had called me "Blood King" since the moment they first materialized from my shadow, and no amount of correction had changed their minds. The title still eluded me. Why Blood King? What did it mean?
I had a feeling the answer would reveal itself as my mastery over the Sacred Gear grew, but for now, I let it slide.
Seraphina shot Lilith a disapproving glance. "Do not tease His Majesty. He is focused on his training." She stepped closer and gently adjusted my sleeve, her touch professional, almost clinical. "However, I agree that you are pushing yourself hard. Your pulse is elevated even for a vampire. Perhaps a short rest before the next round?"
Lilith pouted, her impish grin returning. "I was not teasing. I was offering a legitimate service. Massage is therapeutic." She reached up and traced a finger along my collarbone, stopping just above the neckline of my shirt. "And you are so warm, Majesty. It is tempting to linger around you."
"Lilith." Seraphina's voice was firm.
"Fine, fine." Lilith stepped back, but her eyes sparkled with mischief. "But the offer stands. After training, my chambers are always open. Well, not chambers. The shadow dimension. But you know what I mean."
"Oh, and for the sake of the Queen, I will abstain."
Outer Moka sat on a bench near the edge of the training ground, her pink hair catching the morning light. She had been watching me train, her green eyes following every movement. But now, her gaze had narrowed, fixed on the two Vampire Ladies who were far too close for her comfort. Her hand rested on the rosary at her chest, her thumb tracing slow, anxious circles.
She had not said anything yet, but I could feel her jealousy radiating like heat from a stove.
I cleared my throat. "Thank you, both of you. I appreciate your concern. But I am fine."
Seraphina nodded, her expression softening. "As you wish, Majesty. But please, do not hesitate to call on us if you need anything." She curtsied, her dark hair swaying.
Lilith blew me a kiss. "Anything at all, Blood King." Then she winked at Outer Moka, who stiffened on the bench.
I drank deeply from the goblet. The blood was warm, rich, and invigorating. Gin's Yoki flooded my system, washing away the fatigue and sharpening my senses. I handed the goblet back to Seraphina, who curtsied and retreated.
Lilith lingered for a moment, her fingers brushing my arm. "You are getting stronger every day, Majesty. It is… intoxicating to watch." Then she, too, stepped back, joining her sister in the shadows.
I raised another creation of mine that was born out of Annihilation Maker, the Castlevania "Heirloom" longsword of Alucard. This sword was far easier to handle when it came to real spars instead of the rebellious Necrosword that would want to devour even my summons to fill in the large gap of its existence since it was created with the image of Knull being defeated and having lost his Godly powers.
Heirloom had a cleaner, aesthetically pleasing appearance, the metallic blade made you question the material used in building it, one might say it was built out of mythril. Its edge hummed with stored energy, and if you focused more onto it, you could sense the holy energy it was giving off.
Since it was created using Annihilation Maker, sometimes it made me wonder if I brought the real version of Heirloom or if this was a replica created by the Longinus. It was a small dilemma, but what counted the most for me was the inherited abilities my imagination gave birth to in this legendary blade.
One thing I could say without reservation was that it was weaker than All‑Black, and who could blame it? The Necrosword was a weapon used by a God of Destruction and Darkness to annihilate divine beings across the Marvel Cosmos, while Heirloom was a sword used by a Dhampir, son of Dracula, to slay the corruption brought by his father.
However, because it was a sword used by the iconic Dhampir, Alucard, this blade felt more comfortable in my hand, and in sparring it brought out the best in me without having to fight a rebellious symbiotic weapon wanting to eat more than it could chew.
And if you looked at the holy attribute of this sword, you could say it was a stronger choice against Devils and other 'Dark‑type' entities.
[Name: Alucard 'Heirloom' Sword]
[Type: Weapon – 6‑Star (Light-type)]
[Abilities]
> [Holy Vestige] (Passive)
> The blade deals significant bonus damage to dark‑aligned beings (Devils, Fallen Angels, undead, and corrupted yokai). Wounds inflicted by it are slow to heal for such creatures, as the holy energy lingers in the cut, burning and purifying.
> [Light Resonance](Passive)
> When in the presence of strong dark energy, the blade begins to glow, growing brighter and sharper. It can be used to illuminate dark areas, but its true purpose is to warn the wielder of nearby threats.
> [Vampire's Blessing] (Passive)
> Unlike most holy weapons, Heirloom does not harm vampires. In fact, it feels warm and comfortable in Tsukune's grip, as if it recognizes his mixed nature. Some of his vampiric abilities (Blood Regeneration, Shadow Stride) are slightly enhanced while wielding it.
> [Sunlight Forged](Passive)
> The blade never dulls and cannot be tarnished. It reflects light in a way that can disorient opponents, and in direct sunlight, its cutting power increases by a small but noticeable margin.
> [Symphony of the Night](Active – High Mana Cost - Do you really wanna know it?)
> Once per day, Tsukune can activate the sword's true name, causing it to emit a pulse of silver light in a wide radius. Dark creatures in the area are stunned and take moderate holy damage. Weaker beings may be instantly purified (destroyed). This ability drains significant mana and leaves the sword dim for several minutes afterward.
---
We faced each other across the training ground, the morning sun at our backs.
"Ready when you are," I said, turning to Silent Swordsman.
He nodded and pushed off his sword, the massive blade coming up into a guard position. He moved with a fluid grace that belied his size, his feet barely seeming to touch the ground.
Then we moved.
The clash of steel rang out across the Blood River. Silent Swordsman attacked first, his two‑handed sword sweeping in a wide arc that would have bisected a lesser opponent. I met it with my own blade, deflecting rather than blocking, letting his momentum carry past me. I countered with a thrust to his chest, but he was already spinning, his sword coming around for a low cut.
I leaped over the blade, my vampire agility letting me hang in the air for a heartbeat longer than should have been possible. I brought my sword down in an overhead strike. He caught it on the flat of his blade, sparks flying.
We disengaged and circled each other.
His style was measured, patient. Every strike was precise, every parry economical. He did not waste movement. In contrast, I was more aggressive, using my vampiric speed to press him, to force him into mistakes. But he had seen all my tricks before. He knew my tells.
He feinted high, then dropped low, sweeping his leg. I jumped, but he was already rising, his shoulder driving into my chest. I staggered back, and his blade was at my throat.
I grinned. "You're good. This round is yours."
He stepped back, allowing me to reset.
We went at it again. Thrust, parry, riposte. Our blades ignited the clearing, bringing out a song of steel clashing. I used a feint I had learned from Silent Swordsman himself, a quick shift of weight that made him think I was going for his left side. He bought it for a fraction of a second, and I exploited the opening, my slimmer blade tapping his shoulder.
He nodded, acknowledging the hit, and with this win of mine, we were once again even.
The duel continued, neither of us gaining a clear advantage. We were evenly matched, at least in my human form. He had the technique, the experience, the patience. I had the speed, the strength, and the unpredictability of someone who had not spent his entire life learning a single style.
We ended with another draw, our blades locked, our faces inches apart. I could see my reflection in his visor, flushed and grinning as if you could tell he was enjoying himself more than being a spirit monster of Yami Yugi.
"Good duel, Silent," I said.
He nodded, a small tilt of his head that I had come to recognize as respect. He stepped back and lowered his sword, signaling the end of the session.
I let out a long breath and dismissed my blade. The training clothes I wore, enchanted by another of my creations, were soaked with sweat but still intact.
Preparing to wrap up this day of training, I followed my routine of checking my Status Window.
[Status Window]
[Core Stats (Human Form):]
[Strength: B (20/100)]
[Agility: B (15/100)]
[Vitality: B (65/100)]
[Intelligence: B (18/100)]
[Supernatural Stats:]
[Mana: B (48/100)]
[Demonic Energy: B (24/100)]
[Bloodline Purity: 65.33%]
[Bloodline Control: B (52/100)]
---[Sacred Gear]---
[Annihilation Maker – Awakened]
[Sacred Gear Manifestation: 45% – Can summon monsters from 1 to 5 stars]
[Creatures Created: 103 (On Standby)]
---[Skills/Passives]---
[Shinso Abilities: Blood Link (C), Blood Sense (C), Blood Regeneration (B), Wealth of Power (A), Hemomancy (A)]
[Combat Abilities: Sword Mastery (C), Blade of Stillness (C), Yoki Manipulation (B), Silent Draw (B), Shadow Stride (B), Shuzen‑ryu: Crimson Fang Fist (B), Sanguine Spear (A), Yoki Reinforcement (A), Shuzen‑ryu: Crimson Eclipse (A+), Ghoul Vampire Trigger (S+)]
[Magic & Utility: Spell Sync (E), Witch's Insight (D), Magic Nullification Field (D), Mana Efficiency (C), Silent Spellcasting (C)]
The numbers scrolled past, a satisfying record of progress. I was no longer the weak human who had stumbled into this world. But I was not yet strong enough to face the true monsters of this world, the gap between A‑tier and S‑tier beings was clearly visible in power output and quality, as I could grasp it from my sparings against Moka.
She was stronger than me even when I used my Vampire form, but regardless, the chance of polishing and gaining fighting experience without risking death was unimaginable benefits to the Yokai Academy.
I dismissed my summons with a thought. Seraphina and Lilith melted back into my shadow, their presence still there, waiting. Silent Swordsman gave me a final nod before dissolving into the darkness, his massive blade the last thing to fade.
I raised my hand and whispered a string of soft, almost inaudible syllables. A faint shimmer passed over my training clothes, and the sweat, grime, and lingering smell of exertion vanished as if they had never been.
Silent Spellcasting was a trick I had learned from Silent Magician, a creation I had succeeded in bringing forth using Annihilation Maker after weeks of focused effort since I had to be perfect with her details. The spell required no gestures, no visible light show, just a quiet intention and a small drain on my mana. It was perfect for moments like this.
Another whisper, another subtle flex of my Yoki, and my training clothes dissolved into shadow, replaced by the standard Yokai Academy uniform. The fabric settled around me, crisp and clean, the green vest, the white shirt, the loose tie. I adjusted my collar and rolled my shoulders, feeling the familiar weight of the uniform settle into place.
Outer Moka was looking at me, and she had an expression on her face that I could not quite recognize. It was as if she was seeing a stranger, someone who had replaced the confused, scared human who had needed her protection just to survive the first days in this chaotic place. Her green eyes were soft, almost wistful.
"What?" I asked, adjusting my collar one last time.
"Nothing." She shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. "I was just thinking. You have changed so much, Tsukune-kun. Sometimes I forget that you were ever weak."
"I am still weak. Compared to what is out there." I gestured vaguely at the sky, at the unseen threats beyond the Academy's wards. "But I am getting there."
"You are." She stood and walked toward me, her pink hair swaying. "And I am proud of you."
She reached out and straightened my tie, her fingers lingering for a moment. Then she stepped back, her cheeks slightly flushed.
"We should go. Kurumu and Yukari will be complaining again that I am monopolizing you."