CHAPTER 27: SENSELESS CRUELTY

Despite my exhaustion, I barely slept—my mind haunted by endless worries: my mistress’s health, the resentment and hostility from nearly all the familiars of the Lunae Novae dormitory, and the death I narrowly escaped...

Yesterday was anything but easy.

And as if that weren’t enough, Ayra shows no sign of improvement.

This morning, it was Daphne who woke me. «My dear little sister still hasn’t regained consciousness, and I can’t allow you to fall behind in training. Ayra mentioned you were supposed to have a special session today with Clotilde about Vis energy control, so I’ll accompany you instead. I already spoke with my father, and he agreed that I’ll watch over you until my sister has fully recovered.»

I have to admit, luck smiled on me—I couldn’t have asked for a better replacement.

Daphne is without a doubt an exceptional mistress and a vampire worthy of admiration.

And I won’t deny it, her beauty is unmatched—so striking it feels intimidating.

When she speaks to me, I can hardly meet her gaze, as if I were facing a world-famous actress with breathtaking allure.

The training is set for 10 A.M. at the Volkom family’s private center, but by 9:30 we’re already there—alone, of course, since we arrived so early.

To my surprise, Daphne informs me that Sasha and Priscilla, along with their familiars, Gerard and Dorje, will also join this special session.

Strange that Gerard never mentioned it; perhaps Priscilla forgot to tell him.

«Training starts in half an hour... why are we here so early? And what about Kajetan, isn’t he training with us?» I ask, pacing back and forth in boredom.

«When it comes to Clotilde, you always need to arrive at least thirty minutes early if you want to avoid a harsh scolding,» Daphne replies with a shrug. «That woman is as strong as she is strict, and it’s no coincidence she’s one of the three supreme commanders of the Scarlet Army. As for my dear Kajetan... well, this afternoon he has a very important match—against the second-place fighter—and he preferred to stay alone to focus.»

I never imagined Clotilde was that strong. Sure, Vespera once said she considered herself second only to her, so I knew she wasn’t weak.

But I didn’t expect her to be one of the supreme commanders of the army that defends Mildelar—and therefore one of the strongest vampires in the realm.

Quite unusual, considering she’s supposed to be a princess.

Still, it’s a shame Kajetan isn’t training with us this morning.

Because of the tension back then, I never had the chance to fully observe his fighting style and grasp its secrets.

I was hoping today would be the perfect occasion.

Too bad...

Moments after Daphne finishes speaking, a crimson beam crashes down from the sky, exploding into a blinding light as it touches the ground.

It can only be Clotilde—her entrance identical to when she interrupted Sasha and Ayra’s duel.

As the red light fades, Clotilde appears, accompanied by her petite familiar, Angelica.

At the sight of that girl, a chill runs through my stomach, as if my body instinctively remembers the brutal blows Angelica used to knock me down with absurd ease during the demonstration match.

Since then, I like to think I’ve improved—not in mastering Vis energy, unfortunately, but that’s exactly why today’s training is needed.

Yet, if I were to face her again, she would probably crush me just as easily.

Clotilde isn’t only a vampire of terrifying strength—she must also be an extraordinary trainer to have turned such a fragile, small girl into a war machine.

After all, as a commander, she must be used to shaping her troops.

Clotilde’s gaze grows particularly serious as she meets Daphne’s eyes.

Then, with a gesture, she signals her to step aside, and Daphne obeys.

The two move a few meters away and, with a simple motion of her hand, Clotilde conjures a field of red energy around them, forming a dome that completely isolates them, preventing us from seeing or hearing what goes on inside.

I have no doubt they’re discussing what happened at Noxscura—the Nova Aetas ambush, Vespera, and Ayra’s Shadowshaper form.

As the highest-ranking figure of the Scarlet Army, Clotilde must surely be tasked with investigating.

I turn my gaze to Angelica, who stands rigid and still like a little soldier.

Her expression is serious but slightly forced, as if she struggles to maintain it.

I give her a timid smile and a small wave.

After a quick glance at the red dome where the sisters are talking, she hesitates, then returns the gesture—only to immediately resume her composed, stern demeanor.

That small act—checking Clotilde before responding—leaves me unsettled.

The most obvious explanation is that she’s afraid of being punished if Clotilde catches her breaking her disciplined composure, even for an instant—but I don’t want to believe that.

It would be absurd, right?

Punishing a familiar for something as insignificant as greeting someone would be the act of a complete bastard.

Yet, on the other hand, the vampires’ senseless cruelty stopped surprising me long ago...

Almost thirty minutes pass before a crimson flash announces the arrival of Sasha and her familiar, Dorje, cutting short the endless private conversation between Clotilde and Daphne.

Curiosity eats at me about what they were discussing, but digging deeper would be pointless—if it were something I needed to know, they would have involved me, considering I was there during Vespera’s ambush.

Sasha’s outfit is the boldest, most provocative thing I’ve ever seen her wear.

A dress so short it barely covers her, leaving even the lower curve of her ass exposed—hidden only by a thin red string I can only assume are her panties—and a neckline so deep it’s a miracle her nipples don’t slip out.

To top it off, she’s wearing sky-high stilettos.

If Ayra were here, she’d probably punch me in the head... since I can’t tear my eyes away from Sasha.

But damn, I’m still a sixteen-year-old boy.

How am I supposed to look away? It’s practically mission impossible!

Dorje Valakys, standing beside her, remains completely indifferent to this walking erotic spectacle—unlike me, who struggles not to stare like some pervert.

Having probably lived as a monk, he must have honed incredible self-control—or worse, lost all attraction to that sadistic evil.

Gerard’s words about the humiliations Sasha inflicts on him—pissing on him and shocking him with brutal jolts after every loss—still haunt me.

With all that in mind, it wouldn’t be surprising if the poor guy feels nothing but hatred for her.

«Sasha, you’re only five minutes early!» Clotilde thunders, dissolving the barrier the moment her sister appears. «Don’t ever do that again, or this will be the last time I waste my time on your pathetic familiar!»

«Oh, so demanding...» Sasha mutters, spreading her arms in fake disappointment. «And I’m not even the last one to arrive,» she adds, glancing around and noticing Priscilla’s absence.

«That brat better show up on time, or—»

Clotilde’s menacing words are abruptly cut off by the creak of the heavy metal door—the only entrance to the arena.

As usual, Gerard enters, reduced to a bridled quadruped, with Priscilla perched on his back in her usual loli-succubus cosplay.

She whips him to make him move faster, like a jockey pushing a horse.

«Move it, idiot! You’re making me late!»

If she didn’t treat him like a horse, they probably would’ve arrived sooner.

I want to say it out loud, but Ayra was clear—I must never meddle in vampire affairs.

So I swallow my frustration.

Besides, my mistress also told me that because of Priscilla’s young age—or, as Ayra brutally puts it, her absolute uselessness—she still can’t use teleportation magic and has to rely on her bodyguard to fetch Gerard from the dorm every day.

«You barely made it in time!» Clotilde scolds, her tone even sharper than the one she used against Sasha.

«It’s not my fault!» Priscilla snaps, visibly irritated. «It’s this filthy beast’s fault, he’s too slow!»

She yanks Gerard’s head up by the hair.

«Did you hear me, you sack of shit?! We’re late again!»

With an agile leap, Priscilla hops off Gerard’s back.

In her hand materializes a long red whip lined with small barbs.

She raises it high, ready to strike Gerard, who remains on all fours.

I turn my head away, focusing on anything else.

My body tenses, fists clenched, teeth gritted, as if I were the one about to take that lash.

Why? Why does she have to treat him like this? It’s not fair!

Gerard is a good man—he doesn’t deserve it!

I don’t know how, I don’t know when, but I swear I’ll become strong enough to make that brat pay for every drop of pain she’s inflicted on him! That’s a promise!

The whip cuts through the air, ready to strike my roommate’s back—when suddenly, a firm and commanding voice halts that unjust punishment a split second before impact.

«Are you seriously punishing your familiar before a training session with me?! What the hell is wrong with you, you little idiot?!» Clotilde roars.

Her harsh words and stern tone freeze Priscilla in place.

«I’m doing you a favor by wasting my time to make up for your incompetence as a trainer! I’m only doing it to erase the shame of having one of my sisters ranked last! The least you can do is make sure your familiar is physically able to learn as much as possible! You can punish him afterward!»

«Y-Yes, Clotilde. Forgive me...» Priscilla murmurs, bowing her head in shame as the whip in her hands dissolves into countless glowing particles.

For an instant, when Clotilde stopped Priscilla, I had the absurd impression she did it out of compassion for the poor familiar unjustly punished.

But no—it was pure self-interest.

She just didn’t want to waste time training someone who couldn’t even stand up.

That ’You’ll punish him later!’ froze my blood.

I don’t even want to imagine the condition my roommate will be in tonight, while I’ll be fresh and relaxed as if I’d just come back from a pleasant vacation.

How could I blame Aron?

If I were in his place, I’d probably hate myself too.

And through all this, Daphne didn’t lift a finger. Not even a flicker of pity in her eyes—just cold indifference, as if it were all perfectly normal... which, sadly, it is.

My body boils with uncontrollable rage, my breathing grows heavy, as if I’m about to explode.

Energy churns inside me, too strong to be contained by my skin, seeping out as a violet aura that doesn’t go unnoticed.

«What’s wrong, predestined familiar?» Sasha asks, a sadistic smirk curling her lips. «Does it bother you how Priscilla treats her little pet? If so, why don’t you tell her yourself?»

That bitch knows full well that if I did, I’d be violating one of the most sacred rules between vampires and familiars—and the consequences would be disastrous.

She’s provoking me on purpose.

«Sasha, enough!» Daphne finally intervenes, cutting short a situation that could have easily turned into a death sentence—at least for me.

«Enough fighting, or I’ll silence you myself!» Clotilde thunders, stomping the ground and making it tremble.

In an instant, an eerie silence falls over the entire arena.

«Line up in front of me, now!» she orders us familiars.

We snap to attention like trained soldiers, taking our positions exactly as commanded.

Clotilde cracks her knuckles, scanning us carefully like a general evaluating new recruits.

«Let the training begin!»