The Pact: Bruno and the Crimson Veil

After the long and exhausting day of shopping, I returned to the castle worn out. I barely touched the bed before falling asleep.

When I woke up, I noticed something curious — my sleep time was decreasing, just as Flávia had casually mentioned a few days ago.

The clock read 5:50 a.m.

I got up with an unusual vigor, washed my face, brushed my teeth, and got ready. A silent excitement grew inside me — today would be my first day of training.

Flávia was still asleep.

She had said that, in the beginning, it would be better if I tried to take the first steps on my own.

And I agreed.

With the little I had already understood, I hoped at least to ignite the first spark.

Since yesterday, I already had a vague idea of what I would do.

Flávia had made it clear: alone, I just shouldn't try to transform. Other than that, I had freedom.

Arriving at the training field, I started with a brief stretch — a remnant of my old gym routine. Even though it was now hard to hurt myself, the gesture brought me focus and familiarity.

After warming up, I walked to the shelf at the edge of the field. A true arsenal lay before me: spears, swords, bows, daggers, knives... even more exotic weapons, like a spiritual scepter, black ropes, a small hand scythe, a silver trident, bisentos, clubs, various axes, and three iron chains with clasps at the ends.

It was common, from what Flávia told me, for vampires to specialize in a type of weapon — something that almost became an extension of their own body.

Three of them caught my attention.

A simple wooden spear, adorned with a small flag below the blade.

A slightly curved dagger, with a closed moon symbol carved at the end of the handle.

And a thin clasp chain, extremely light and maneuverable, as if it had a life of its own.

I paused for a moment in front of them, listening to the distant sound of the wind among the stones. The decision wouldn't be easy.

Indecisive but excited, I decided to test the three weapons.

I started with the curved dagger.

I grabbed the handle firmly and struck the air, as if stabbing a shadow in front of me. I tried quick movements, arc cuts, low feints. At first, I liked it.

It was light, adaptable, and easy to carry — discreet.

But soon a thought came to mind: daggers are stealth attack weapons.

And honestly? That didn't suit me.

As a man, I saw no reason to hide or attack from behind. That wasn't the kind of strength I wanted to master.

I discarded the dagger without ceremony.

Next, I tried the thin clasp chain.

It weighed about 50 kilos — something unthinkable for a normal human.

But for me now, it felt like just an extension of my body.

The chain was surprisingly maneuverable, flexible, alive.

I spun it, threw it, retreated, made it wind around training dummies and trap them like a serpent.

It reached distances easily, wrapped the target, opened space — and on top of that, it was beautiful.

It had an almost hypnotic aesthetic, as if each movement of mine danced in the air with violent elegance.

It was there I knew.

This was the weapon I wanted.

The chain gave me reach, control, and presence.

It would be with it that I would start my training.

Next, I picked up the spear.

It was simple — perhaps even too basic for the eyes of an experienced warrior — but, for me, it had exactly the kind of aesthetics I liked. Long, balanced, straightforward.

I began using it slowly, trying frontal strikes, side cuts, improvised spins.

I soon realized: it was definitely a difficult weapon.

I had to change hand positions on the shaft several times.

My feet stumbled on the wrong movements. A badly executed spin almost made me fall.

But with every mistake, I saw its potential shine.

The spear's tip allowed long-range attacks, with strength and precision.

It created a great space to retreat, defend, and counterattack.

It could be thrown violently...

And if one day I managed to combine it with telekinesis magic or mind control?

The damage would be devastating.

Its strikes were wild but flexible. Hostile but beautiful.

Without thinking much, I decided right then:

I would split my training time between the chain and the spear.

With the chosen weapons, I began applying them in combat.

I started with the spear, advancing against the training dummies with quick thrusts, side cuts, improvised throws.

As the strikes followed one another, my mind projected scenarios — imaginary counterattacks, perfect dodges, just defenses.

I spun my body, kept my base firm, rehearsed retreats and charges.

I fantasized about real fights.

The spear, although incredibly versatile, made no concessions.

It demanded my full attention.

Every poorly calculated strike unbalanced my center, every angle error nullified the attack's force.

Several times I had to change my grip, shift my feet, try a new spin — searching for something I barely knew how to define: stability.

But it was like trying to hold the wind.

I knew this was just my first training — and alone at that.

My technical notion was shallow, my body still adapted to the new rhythm.

But even so...

The more I used it, the more I saw myself with it.

It was as if, with every failed attempt, the spear accepted me a little more.

After the initial excitement with the spear faded, I decided to begin training with the chain.

It seemed made for me.

Extremely malleable, light, like an extension of my arm — alive.

But now calmer, feet on the ground, adrenaline lowering, I began to notice something important:

Using the chain was much more complex than it seemed.

It shared a certain fluidity with the spear… but was completely different.

With the spear, my center was balance.

With the chain, my center dissolved — it didn't affect me... I affected it.

Basic moves worked: simple throws, short spins, direct attacks.

But if I tried to go further… it mercilessly reminded me of my lack of skill.

Whenever I tried to trap it around the dummy, I missed the timing.

When I tried to move it again after a throw, it just fell, indifferent.

I had no rhythm.

I couldn't redirect the attack just with body movement — as if I lacked an invisible connection with it.

It was as if the chain obeyed not force, but dance.

And I still didn't know how to dance.

With a fully focused mind, I returned to training.

I alternated between the spear and the chain, trying to explore each calmly and intentionally.

My lack of skill was evident — but curiously, it didn't discourage me.

I failed, adjusted, tried again.

Time passed like a slow-flowing thread.

While I was panting, sweating despite the light morning cold, I heard a familiar voice echo across the field:

— Good morning, Bruno. Training early, huh?

Flávia.

She wore elegant and practical training clothes, as if made for the night.

— Good morning, — I replied, still out of breath. — I just started, around 6:30.

She raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised, and let out a soft laugh:

— It's already 10:48.

Her words hit me like a surprise thrust.

— I've been training for more than four hours...? — I murmured, incredulous.

Still surprised, I asked:

— And you? Why did you only show up now? What time did you wake up?

She smiled, a little embarrassed, and answered naturally:

— Around 9:50.

— As vampires, we do strange things, — she continued lightly. — I, for example, only need to sleep two hours every two days...

— But I like to sleep about ten every night.

I was slightly impressed to learn Flávia only needed two hours of sleep every two days.

But the fact that she chose to sleep ten hours a night... well, that didn't surprise me much.

Even humans do that for pure pleasure — imagine beings as old and intriguing as vampires.

I just nodded slightly and sat down to rest a bit.

Flávia discreetly clapped twice. In seconds, a servant appeared and approached softly, carrying a glass of water.

I accepted with a brief nod and thanked her.

When I looked closely, I realized it was the same white-haired girl who had been behind Flávia the first day I arrived in this world — standing by the bedroom door.

But I didn't pay much attention to the coincidence.

I simply drank the water slowly, feeling the cool liquid soothe my dry throat.

Three minutes later, I got up again.

My body still felt tired, but the will to continue burned stronger.

I wasn't close to mastery... but I felt something inside me was about to awaken.

Flávia approached promptly, a little impressed with my focus on melee weapons training.

She carefully observed the instruments on the ground, then turned to me with a curious expression.

— A spear and a chain? — she said, slightly surprised. — I didn't imagine you would choose those. I thought you'd prefer something with more impact and destruction... like axes, clubs, or gauntlets.

Without hesitation, I replied:

— Those weapons don't seem cool to me.

She smiled and nodded lightly.

— Well, now that you're a little familiar with them, we can move forward.

— Let's try to improve your mastery on two important pillars: Nex Imperium (power control) and Fluir Vitae (vital energy).

— We'll start adding them to the weapons — to strengthen them.

I was a little confused.

— But... wouldn't it be better to focus first just on weapon mastery? Without influencing with powers?

Flávia nodded understandingly.

— Sure. Learning to handle a pure weapon is essential.

— But in a real battle, if you can't strengthen your weapons with Fluir Vitae or boost your attacks with Nex Imperium... — she paused briefly, her look serious. — You'll just be a lamb ready for slaughter.

I swallowed hard. The logic was simple — and frighteningly real.

I nodded silently and then took my position.

Flávia began explaining. And I listened with full attention.

Flávia picked up a rapier and began the explanation.

— When you use Fluir Vitae on a weapon, — she said calmly, — it becomes more durable… and can incorporate other powers of yours.

She took a deep breath, and then her aura began expanding, rising up her arm to her hand and flowing over the thin rapier blade. The weapon began to glow with a slight metallic sheen, as if its durability had increased.

In seconds, it was completely covered by a translucent, sharp, living water aura.

Without warning, she spun her wrist and swung a horizontal cut to the left, striking the void.

The strike created ripples in the air, as if reality itself had been scratched, but no visible damage was caused to the field.

I nodded, impressed with the precision and control. After a brief moment to assimilate, she continued:

— Now, Nex Imperium… goes beyond simply adding Fluir Vitae to the weapon.

— It transforms the blade. It makes the energy not just envelop but be assimilated by the weapon.

Once again, she sent vital energy into the sword.

But now, something had changed. The rapier emitted a sharp cutting aura — as if it itself wished to slice through everything before it.

Flávia then made a simple thrust.

And what followed was a clean, direct cut that extended about four feet ahead of the blade, as if it had cut the air by sheer will.

She stopped, took a deep breath — and continued.

— And when you unite Fluir Vitae with Nex Imperium...

— You boost the limit of your control and the weapon itself.

Once more, the energy coursed through her body and invaded the rapier.

This time, the blade became robust, almost unbreakable, surrounded by an ethereal water aura. But now, there was something more — a supernatural sharpness, as if it could cut even thoughts.

With a simple, almost effortless movement, Flávia delivered the last strike.

The air was torn apart.

An absolute cut pierced the training field, extending like a bluish line in space, surrounded by a cutting water aura so sharp it seemed it could float for a hundred years without fading.

I was impressed. Scared, even.

Flávia had used only the basic Vitae and Nex, without even deepening them… and yet performed such a devastating move.

I couldn't help but imagine: what if she used both powers to their full extent?

Worse… she hadn't even used one of her affinity elements.

The water aura was just part of the natural mutation of her Vitae — not a chosen element.

And then an even more unsettling thought crossed my mind:

What if she used her Count form to the limit?

A shiver ran down my spine.

Flávia didn't say much. She just smiled and pointed toward the field with her chin.

— You should try.

She came closer and spoke with a low but firm voice:

— Remember the feeling yesterday when you tried to use the Mist? Try to feel it again.

I nodded, approaching the training dummy.

I gripped the spear more firmly.

I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to recall that feeling… the internal heat, the pressure under the skin, as if something wanted to come out.

I opened my eyes and began with diagonal strikes.

But nothing happened.

The morning training fatigue already weighed down my arms, and frustration threatened to return.

Still, I persisted.

I began to control the rhythm.

I regulated energy expenditure, adjusted the strength of my movements.

Gradually, my body entered a flow.

And without realizing it, something inside me awakened.

Power Control activated.

I channeled Vitae internally — more instinctively than technically.

And then, with a diagonal strike with the spear…

The tip was covered by a fine, ethereal, almost imperceptible aura.

But before it disappeared, it tinged itself a burning red, the color of a living flame.

The blade cut the training dummy clumsily, imperfectly…

But it was enough.

The dummy was split in half.

And at the very next instant, a small flame arose from the wound and spread through the straw torso as if alive.

Flávia, by my side, looked visibly shocked.

— You did it! — she exclaimed, her voice excited, almost too much for her usual tone.

Then another voice sounded, calm and curious:

— Indeed… your talent is for fire.