《BloodBound》


 Blood & Ash

    In a quiet village on the continent of Estros, under the watch of the distant Empire, lived a young boy named Riven. Eldrin, the village, was a simple place¡ªwooden houses with thatched roofs, fields of wheat swaying in the breeze, and forests stretching beyond the hills. The Empire¡¯s banners hung limply over the square, though no one paid them much attention. Eldrin was far from anything important, a dot on the map no one in the Empire likely remembered.


    And for Riven, that was fine.


    "Riven!" his father¡¯s gruff voice cut through the air. "Get over here. This iron isn¡¯t going to shape itself!"


    Riven sighed and wiped the sweat from his brow. He had been sitting on the fence that lined their family¡¯s small forge, watching a group of children chase each other down the dirt road. Reluctantly, he slid off and made his way back to his father, who stood by the anvil, hammer in hand.


    "What¡¯s so interesting over there that you can¡¯t focus on work, huh?" his father grunted, shaking his head. "Here. Take this." He handed Riven a long strip of iron. "You wanted to learn how to forge a knife? Start with this. Heat it, hammer it, and don¡¯t mess it up."


    Riven smirked as he took the iron. His father always acted tough, but Riven knew better. The older man¡¯s face, lined with years of hard work, softened when he thought no one was looking. He wasn¡¯t a tall man, but his arms were thick and scarred from decades at the forge. The family forge was his pride, passed down through generations, and he often told Riven it would one day be his.


    "Don¡¯t let him push you too hard, Riven," his mother called from the doorway, carrying a basket of bread she had baked that morning. Her voice was light but firm, always cutting through her husband¡¯s gruffness. "It¡¯s not going to kill him to take a break, Alric."


    Riven shot his mother a grin. She was the heart of their home, keeping everything running smoothly. Her auburn hair was tied back in a loose braid, and her hands were always busy¡ªbaking, sewing, or tending the small garden behind their house. If Alric was the strength of the family, she was the warmth.


    "Break? He barely started!" Alric barked, though the corner of his mouth twitched like he was fighting a smile.


    Their banter was familiar, comforting. For Riven, it was home.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Later that evening, as the sun dipped below the hills, the family gathered at the table for dinner. The room was small but cozy, with a single candle flickering in the center. The smell of roasted vegetables and bread filled the air, and Riven¡¯s younger sister, Lena, sat cross-legged on her stool, humming a tune under her breath.


    "You¡¯re daydreaming again, aren¡¯t you?" Lena teased, her hazel eyes sparkling. She was only ten but had a sharp wit that often caught Riven off guard.


    "I¡¯m not," Riven shot back, shoving a piece of bread in his mouth.


    "You are," she said smugly. "Probably imagining some great adventure, saving the Empire or fighting dragons."


    "Better than sitting around sewing dresses," Riven muttered, dodging the crust of bread Lena tossed at him.


    "Enough, you two," their mother said, though her tone was light. "Riven, I know you have your head in the clouds, but you¡¯ll need to focus if you¡¯re going to take over the forge one day."


    Riven¡¯s father nodded in agreement. "She¡¯s right. The world¡¯s changing, boy. It¡¯s not like it was when I was your age. The Empire¡¯s stretched too thin. Strange things are happening out there."


    "Strange how?" Riven asked, leaning forward.


    Alric hesitated, glancing at his wife. Her face tightened, and she lowered her eyes to her plate. Finally, Alric sighed. "People say villages have been disappearing. Whole towns. Some blame bandits, others... worse things."


    "Worse things?" Lena whispered.


    "Just stories," their mother said quickly. "Nothing we need to worry about here."


    Alric didn¡¯t respond. He set his fork down and leaned back in his chair, his brow furrowed. Riven noticed the way his father¡¯s hands fidgeted, gripping the edge of the table as though bracing for something.


    That night, Riven couldn¡¯t sleep. He lay on his cot, staring at the beams of the ceiling as his father¡¯s words echoed in his mind. Villages disappearing? What could that mean?


    Outside, the wind picked up, rustling the leaves in the trees. Somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled. Riven pulled his blanket tighter around him, telling himself it was just a story. Just a story.


    The next day passed like any other. Alric worked the forge while Riven fetched water and tended the bellows. Lena and their mother prepared food for the week, laughing as they worked. By evening, the sun painted the hills gold, and the villagers gathered in the square to share news and stories, as they often did.


    But something was different.


    The air felt heavier, the shadows darker. Riven noticed it first¡ªthe silence. The crickets had stopped chirping, and the birds that usually darted between the trees were nowhere to be seen.


    "Strange," he muttered, glancing at the sky. The sun had dipped below the horizon, and the first stars were beginning to appear. But something about the twilight felt... wrong.


    Before he could think further, a sound reached his ears. A low hum, like the fluttering of wings. He turned toward the forest, his breath catching in his throat.


    Shapes emerged from the trees¡ªdozens of them. At first, they looked like angels, their white wings shimmering in the moonlight. But as they drew closer, Riven saw their eyes¡ªglowing red, like embers in a dying fire.

 Chapter 1.1: The Fall Of Eldrin

    The scream shattered the stillness, followed by the thundering of footsteps and panicked cries.


    Riven could barely process what was happening. The village square, so quiet just moments ago, was now a storm of chaos. The winged monsters¡ªvampires¡ªmoved like predators, their white wings cutting through the smoke as their glowing red eyes searched for prey. Villagers scrambled to flee, but the creatures were too fast. A man was impaled by a spear before Riven¡¯s eyes, his lifeless body collapsing to the dirt.


    ¡°Riven!¡±


    His father¡¯s voice pulled him back to reality. Alric sprinted toward him, his hammer gripped tightly in one hand. ¡°Get to your mother and sister! Take them to the woods!¡±


    For a moment, Riven hesitated. His legs felt like lead, and his chest was tight, but his father¡¯s voice snapped him into action. He turned and ran toward the forge, dodging the growing chaos around him. Flames licked at rooftops, and the air reeked of smoke and blood.


    When he reached the forge, he saw his mother and sister rushing out. Lena¡¯s face was pale, her small hands clutching the hem of her mother¡¯s dress as they ran to meet him.


    ¡°Riven!¡± his mother cried, pulling Lena close as they reached him. Her voice trembled, but her grip on his arm was firm. ¡°We have to go. Now!¡±


    Before they could move, a shadow dropped from the sky. The vampire landed with a heavy thud, its glowing wings folding neatly behind it. Its pale face twisted into an almost playful smile as it looked at them.


    ¡°What do we have here?¡± it murmured, tilting its head as its red eyes scanned the three of them. ¡°A mother and her little lambs. How quaint.¡±


    ¡°Run,¡± their mother whispered, pushing Riven and Lena behind her. Her voice wavered, but her stance was firm.


    Before she could say more, Alric appeared from behind, his hammer swinging with all the force he could muster. The vampire turned just in time to catch the blow with its forearm. The hammer cracked against its skin but didn¡¯t break it.


    ¡°Bold,¡± the vampire said, baring its fangs in a grin. With a single swipe of its arm, it sent Alric stumbling backward.


    ¡°Stay away from them!¡± Alric roared, raising his hammer again.


    The vampire moved faster than Riven could see, grabbing Alric by the throat and slamming him into the ground. His father gasped, the hammer slipping from his fingers as the vampire loomed over him. ¡°Let him go!¡± Riven¡¯s mother screamed, stepping forward with Lena still clutching her.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    The vampire glanced at her, its red eyes narrowing. ¡°So noisy.¡± With a flick of its wrist, it sent Alric sprawling to the side like a ragdoll.


    The vampire¡¯s gaze fell on Lena next. It moved with a blur, closing the distance in an instant. Riven¡¯s mother tried to shield her, but the creature shoved her aside with terrifying ease.


    ¡°No!¡± Riven shouted, lunging forward with the small hunting knife he¡¯d taken from the forge. He didn¡¯t even get close. The vampire swatted him away like an insect, sending him crashing into the dirt.


    The world spun around him as he struggled to get up. Pain shot through his body, but it was nothing compared to what he saw next.


    The vampire had grabbed Lena by the arm, lifting her off the ground as if she weighed nothing. She screamed and kicked, tears streaming down her face as she cried out for her mother, her brother.


    ¡°Such fresh blood,¡± the vampire said, licking its lips.


    ¡°No! Stop!¡± Riven shouted, his voice breaking as he tried to move. His arms and legs trembled, but his body refused to obey.


    The vampire sank its fangs into Lena¡¯s neck.


    Riven¡¯s breath hitched. He could only watch as her struggles slowed, her small hands weakly grasping at the creature¡¯s arms. Her hazel eyes, so full of life moments ago, now stared blankly as the color drained from her face.


    ¡°No¡­ no¡­ no¡­¡± Riven¡¯s voice broke into a sob, his vision blurring with tears.. ¡°Lena!¡± his mother screamed, crawling toward her daughter. She reached for the vampire, clawing at its arm, but the creature didn¡¯t even flinch.


    ¡°Get away,¡± it hissed, shoving her aside. She collapsed to the ground, her hands shaking as she screamed incoherently, her voice filled with pure anguish.


    ¡°Riven, run!¡± Alric¡¯s voice cut through the chaos. His father, bloodied and barely able to stand, pushed himself to his knees. ¡°Get out of here! Now!¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t¡ª¡± Riven stammered, tears streaming down his face as he tried to move. ¡°I can¡¯t leave you!¡±


    ¡°Run, boy!¡± Alric roared, his voice filled with desperation. ¡°You have to live!¡± Riven¡¯s legs finally moved, though it wasn¡¯t a choice. His body acted on instinct, turning and sprinting toward the woods.


    ¡°Riven! Don¡¯t!¡± his mother screamed, but her voice was drowned out by the roar of blood rushing through his ears.


    He ran blindly, his vision blurred by tears. Behind him, the sounds of battle and screams echoed in the night. His father¡¯s voice, his mother¡¯s cries, his sister¡¯s silence¡ªit all blurred together into a nightmare he couldn¡¯t escape.


    The forest swallowed him as he ran. Branches tore at his arms and face, but he didn¡¯t stop. He couldn¡¯t stop.


    His lungs burned, his legs screamed for relief, but he kept going. The image of Lena¡¯s lifeless eyes was burned into his mind, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn¡¯t shake it.


    Finally, his body gave out. His legs buckled, and he collapsed onto the forest floor. His breaths came in shallow gasps as the darkness around him seemed to grow heavier.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry¡­¡± he whispered, his voice barely audible. His tears soaked the dirt beneath him as exhaustion dragged him into unconsciousness. When Riven woke, it was still dark. The air smelled of ash and blood, but something else caught his attention¡ªa faint glow from a nearby fire.


    He wasn¡¯t alone.


    A man sat nearby, his face obscured by the hood of a tattered cloak. A massive sword rested against a tree beside him, its blade etched with glowing symbols.


    ¡°Good. You¡¯re alive,¡± the man said, his voice low and gruff.

 Chapter 2: The Aftermath

    The sun hung low in the sky, casting the forest in hues of gold and shadow. Riven sat slumped on the forest floor, dirt clinging to his knees and hands as he pounded the ground with trembling fists. His body ached, his chest felt hollow, and tears ran freely down his face.


    "My mother¡­ my father¡­ my sister¡­" Riven choked, his voice cracking as he sobbed. "I left them. I ran like a coward. I abandoned them!"


    He slammed his fists into the ground again, the dull ache in his hands drowned by the sheer weight of his grief. "It should¡¯ve been me," he whispered, his voice barely audible.


    A sharp voice cut through the stillness.


    "Enough of this pointless blabbering," came the gruff tone of an older man.


    Riven snapped his head up, startled. A tall man stood a few paces away, leaning on a long, jagged sword that gleamed faintly in the dying light. His cloak was tattered, and his face was lined with scars and weariness.


    Marek stepped closer, his weathered boots crunching against the fallen leaves. "Your parents and sister died trying to save you, kid. Sitting here crying isn¡¯t going to bring them back."


    Riven glared at him, his tears still streaming. "What do you know about it? You weren¡¯t there! They¡ªmy father¡ªhe couldn¡¯t even scratch those monsters! How can I fight them? How could anyone?"


    Marek sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, they¡¯re stronger than you. Faster, too. And right now, you couldn¡¯t fight your way out of a wet paper bag." His voice softened, but only slightly. "But they¡¯re not invincible. With the right training and equipment, you can kill them."


    Riven blinked, a faint glimmer of hope flashing in his eyes before it faded again. "How do you even know that? I saw them. They looked like angels. Wings, halos¡­ Is God punishing us? Is this His way of saying we¡¯re nothing?"


    Marek crouched down in front of him, meeting his eyes. "Listen, kid. God¡¯s got nothing to do with this. Those bloodsuckers aren¡¯t angels¡ªthey just like making you think they are. It¡¯s part of their game, their ego. To them, we¡¯re cattle. Livestock. Nothing more."


    Riven shook his head, his fists clenching against his sides. "Then why? Why my family? Why Lena¡­ she was just a kid¡­"


    Marek¡¯s expression hardened. "Enough," he said, slapping Riven across the face¡ªnot hard, but enough to jolt him out of his downward spiral. "Stop asking ''why.'' It¡¯s too late for questions. Your family¡¯s gone. If you want to honor them, stop wallowing in self-pity and start thinking about what you¡¯re gonna do next."Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    "And what am I supposed to do, huh?!" Riven snapped, his voice breaking. "I don¡¯t know the first thing about swordsmanship, let alone killing monsters like them!"


    Marek grinned for the first time¡ªa small, crooked smile. "Now that," he said, "is something I can help with."


    Riven stared at him, confused and wary. "Why would I trust you? For all I know, you¡¯re just some crazy old man."


    Marek reached for a nearby stick and smacked Riven on the head with it.


    "Because I¡¯m all you¡¯ve got, kid," he said, standing up again. "And lucky for you, I¡¯ve spent my whole life killing vampires." Riven rubbed his head, glaring at Marek as he stood. "Fine. Let¡¯s say I listen to you. We still need to warn the Empire. We have to tell someone about what happened to my village before it¡¯s too late."


    Marek¡¯s face darkened, and the small grin disappeared. He let out a heavy sigh, as if he¡¯d been waiting for that question.


    "It¡¯s already too late," he said, his voice quieter now. "The capital¡¯s probably fallen by now."


    Riven froze, staring at him. "What are you talking about?"


    Marek leaned against a tree, his tone grim. "Your village¡ªEldrin¡ªit wasn¡¯t random. It¡¯s a straight shot to the Empire¡¯s capital, and it¡¯s the least-guarded part of the border. Those bloodsuckers weren¡¯t just raiding your home; they were clearing the path."


    Riven¡¯s stomach churned. "But¡­ the king would¡¯ve sent soldiers. He would¡¯ve stopped them."


    Marek let out a bitter laugh. "The king?" he said, shaking his head. "The king sold out the Empire to save his own hide. Word is, he made a deal with the vampires. Gave them the capital, the people, everything. In return, they turned him into one of them."


    Riven¡¯s breath caught. "No¡­ That can¡¯t be true. The king¡¯s supposed to protect us! He¡¯s supposed to¡ª"


    "Be a hero?" Marek interrupted. His voice was sharp, cutting through Riven¡¯s denial. "Yeah, well, heroes are a dying breed, kid. The king¡¯s just another coward, and now the Empire¡¯s gone. All we¡¯ve got left is the will to fight. You want justice? You want revenge? Then stop looking to heroes and start becoming something that can actually make a difference."


    Riven clenched his fists, his teeth grinding together. His mind flashed back to his father¡¯s hammer shattering against the vampire¡¯s arm, to Lena¡¯s lifeless eyes, to his mother¡¯s screams.


    "Fine," he said, his voice shaking with anger. "If no one else will fight them, I will. I don¡¯t care if it kills me. I¡¯ll kill every last one of those bastards, no matter what it takes."


    "Good," Marek said, standing up straight. He held out a hand to Riven. "Then let¡¯s get started. You¡¯ve got a long way to go, and I¡¯m not exactly patient."


    Riven stared at the hand for a moment before grabbing it, letting Marek pull him to his feet. As the two of them began to walk deeper into the forest, Marek glanced at Riven. "First thing you need to know: killing vampires isn¡¯t just about swinging a sword. You¡¯ll need to learn their weaknesses, how they think, how they hunt. And you¡¯ll need to learn fast, or you¡¯re going to die before you even see your first real fight."


    Riven didn¡¯t flinch. "Then teach me."


    Marek smirked. "You¡¯ll regret saying that by tomorrow."


    The forest stretched ahead of them, dark and foreboding. But for the first time since that night, Riven¡¯s steps felt steady.

 Chapter 3: Time To Power Up!

    "Rise and shine, sleeping beauty!" Marek¡¯s gruff voice snapped through the stillness of the forest, accompanied by an insistent shake of Riven¡¯s shoulder.


    Riven groaned, pulling the thin blanket over his head. "It¡¯s too early for this," he mumbled. "Can¡¯t we start training later today?"


    Marek raised an eyebrow, looking genuinely confused. "Kid, it¡¯s about to get dark."


    Riven shot up, suddenly wide awake. His gray eyes darted to the sliver of sunlight fading behind the trees. "It¡¯s almost night? How are we supposed to train now?!"


    Marek smirked and stood up, leaning on his massive, rune-covered sword. "I believe in real combat experience. Sure, I could spend days teaching you fancy footwork and boring drills, but you¡¯ll only really learn by putting it into practice. Nothing sharpens instincts like a real fight."


    Riven blinked, his mouth falling open. "So your idea of training is throwing me at a vampire on my first day?! That¡¯s not training¡ªit¡¯s a death sentence!"


    Marek rolled his eyes and smacked Riven lightly on the back of the head with a stick he¡¯d picked up. "Calm down, kid. I¡¯m not gonna toss you into a pit of bloodsuckers just yet. First lesson is learning how to pick and choose your fights. Running in blind is how you get yourself killed."


    Riven frowned, rubbing the spot where Marek had hit him. "Pick and choose? What does that even mean? They all looked the same when they attacked my village. Wings, fangs, halos. That¡¯s all I saw."


    Marek crouched down, drawing rough shapes in the dirt with the stick. "That¡¯s because you were panicking. You weren¡¯t looking closely." He jabbed the stick toward Riven¡¯s face. "Listen up, ¡®cause I¡¯m only saying this once. Vampires have a hierarchy¡ªsome are weak, others will tear you apart just by looking at you. If you don¡¯t know what you¡¯re fighting, you¡¯re already dead." Riven leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as Marek began to explain.


    "Here¡¯s the breakdown," Marek began, drawing a pyramid in the dirt. "At the very top, you¡¯ve got the God-Class Vampires. They¡¯re¡­ well, they¡¯re gods, plain and simple. They can¡¯t descend to the world on their own¡ªnot enough blood, not enough sacrifices¡ªbut if they ever do show up, assume it¡¯s the end of everything."


    Riven¡¯s jaw tightened. "You said ¡®they.¡¯ There¡¯s more than one?"


    Marek nodded grimly. "Three of them, to be exact. No one knows much about them¡ªonly that their power is limitless. Pray you never meet one."


    He jabbed the stick lower, near the middle of the pyramid. "Next, you¡¯ve got the Apostles. These are their envoys, messengers, or whatever you want to call them. They¡¯re rare and act as direct extensions of the gods¡¯ will."


    Marek paused for a moment before continuing. "Below them are the King-Class Vampires¡ªthe rulers of entire territories. Each one¡¯s powerful enough to level an army. Beneath them, you¡¯ve got the Leader-Class Vampires¡ªthink nobles or generals. They run blood farms, oversee the knights, and lead raids on villages like yours. The Knight-Class Vampires are their soldiers, disciplined and dangerous. And anything below that?" He shrugged. "Strays. They¡¯re unorganized, feral, and weak¡ªusually the only ones you¡¯ll be able to take on anytime soon."The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Riven nodded slowly, processing the information. "So, what you¡¯re saying is¡­ I should avoid anything above a stray for now?"


    "Exactly," Marek said, tossing the stick aside. "If you ever run into a Knight-Class or higher, you run. Got it?"


    Riven clenched his fists. "What about the vampires that attacked my village? Were they all Knight-Class?"


    Marek shook his head. "Some were probably strays, led by a Knight-Class or Leader-Class Vampire. The way they moved, the way they overwhelmed your village? That wasn¡¯t random¡ªit was organized. And I¡¯m guessing those ¡®leaders¡¯ are already moving to set up blood farms."


    "Blood farms?" Riven repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.


    Marek¡¯s expression darkened. "Places where humans are rounded up like cattle, drained slowly over time to keep the vampires fed. When I checked out a raided village a few weeks ago, there wasn¡¯t a single body left. Not even blood stains. That¡¯s how you know." Riven sat back, his mind reeling from everything Marek had just told him. The weight of it settled in his chest¡ªa world ruled by monsters, humans reduced to livestock. His hands trembled, his knuckles whitening as he clenched his fists.


    "How am I supposed to fight something like that?" he muttered, his voice barely audible.


    "You start small," Marek said, standing up and brushing dirt from his hands. "You won¡¯t survive long if you can¡¯t even control your own body. That¡¯s lesson two¡ªlearning to fortify yourself."


    "Fortify?" Riven repeated, his brow furrowing.


    "Yeah," Marek said, tapping a finger against his own chest. "It¡¯s about channeling your mana into your body¡ªmakes you stronger, faster, tougher. It¡¯s the foundation for everything you¡¯ll learn. If you can¡¯t even do that, there¡¯s no point in teaching you anything else."


    Riven frowned. "How am I supposed to do that? I don¡¯t even know how to use mana."


    "Exactly," Marek said with a crooked grin. "That¡¯s why we¡¯re starting with the basics. Sit down, kid." Riven sat cross-legged on the ground, Marek crouching in front of him.


    "Close your eyes," Marek instructed. "Focus on your breathing. Mana isn¡¯t some mystical force floating out there¡ªit¡¯s inside you. It¡¯s in your blood, your bones, your breath. Find it, and pull it to where you need it."


    Riven closed his eyes, trying to follow Marek¡¯s instructions. At first, he felt nothing. His mind kept wandering¡ªflashes of his family, his sister, the screams from the village. His chest tightened, the memories threatening to overwhelm him.


    "Focus, kid," Marek snapped.


    Riven grit his teeth, forcing himself to push the thoughts aside. He focused on his breath, the steady rise and fall of his chest. Slowly, he began to feel something¡ªa faint warmth deep within him, like a flicker of flame.


    "There you go," Marek said, his voice quieter now. "Grab it. Pull it into your arms, your legs. Make it move."


    Sweat dripped down Riven¡¯s brow as he struggled to maintain the feeling. When he opened his eyes, he stared at his hands in awe¡ªhis veins seemed to glow faintly, like embers under his skin. "Not bad for a first try," Marek said, crossing his arms with a rare hint of approval.


    Riven blinked, surprised. "That¡¯s it? It doesn¡¯t feel like much."


    Marek shook his head, smirking. "Kid, you don¡¯t even realize what you just pulled off, do you? Fortify isn¡¯t easy. It took me years to figure it out¡ªhell, even knights in the Empire¡¯s army struggled with it. Most people can¡¯t even feel their mana, let alone control it on their first try."


    Riven stared at his hands, the glow fading as his focus wavered. "But it felt so¡­ natural," he muttered.


    "Exactly," Marek said, his tone firm but encouraging. "You¡¯re a natural at this, kid. If you keep this up, you might actually stand a chance out there. Hell, you might even balance the playing field." Riven¡¯s heart skipped at the unexpected praise, a flicker of hope replacing the despair in his chest.


    "You think I can really fight them?" he asked quietly.


    "Not yet," Marek said bluntly. "But you¡¯ve got what it takes to get there. Now it¡¯s up to you to put in the work."


    "Good," Marek said, standing and dusting his hands off. He tossed Riven a battered training sword. "Now let¡¯s see if you can keep that momentum going. Lesson three¡ªtry not to die."


    Before Riven could respond, Marek lunged forward, his massive blade swinging down with enough force to send dirt flying.

 Chapter 4: Trial By Steel

    The sun hung high in the sky, casting dappled light through the forest canopy. Riven¡¯s grip tightened around the hilt of the training sword, his knuckles white and trembling. Marek stood across from him, his massive, rune-etched blade resting lazily on his shoulder.


    ¡°Alright, kid,¡± Marek said, his voice calm but firm. ¡°Lesson two: holding a sword doesn¡¯t make you a fighter. If you don¡¯t learn how to use it, you¡¯re just swinging a glorified stick.¡±


    Riven exhaled sharply, sweat already forming on his brow despite the cool breeze. ¡°I get it, I get it,¡± he muttered, adjusting his stance.


    Marek¡¯s sharp eyes scanned him from head to toe. ¡°No, you don¡¯t. Your feet are too close together. Spread them out¡ªshoulder-width. You need a solid foundation, or you¡¯ll fall on your ass the second someone pushes you.¡±


    Riven shuffled his feet apart, glancing down to check his stance.


    ¡°And stop looking at the ground!¡± Marek barked, his tone snapping like a whip. ¡°Keep your eyes on your opponent. A vampire¡¯s not gonna wait for you to figure out where your feet go.¡±


    Riven¡¯s gaze snapped up, meeting Marek¡¯s piercing stare. He nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat.


    ¡°Good,¡± Marek said, lifting his blade and pointing it toward Riven. ¡°Now, let¡¯s see if you¡¯ve got enough brains to listen and fight at the same time.¡± Marek stepped forward, his sword gleaming in the sunlight as he swung in a wide, deliberate arc. Riven raised his blade, clumsily parrying the strike. The impact rattled his arms, nearly knocking the training sword from his hands.


    ¡°Too slow,¡± Marek said, stepping back and resetting his stance. ¡°Again.¡±


    Riven tightened his grip, his heart pounding in his chest. Marek came at him again, this time feinting left before slashing downward. Riven stumbled as he blocked the strike, his feet slipping on the uneven ground.


    ¡°Balance, kid!¡± Marek snapped, stepping back again. ¡°If your stance is weak, your defense is weak. Fix it!¡±


    Riven gritted his teeth, planting his feet more firmly. ¡°You make this sound so easy,¡± he muttered.


    ¡°That¡¯s because it is easy¡ªfor me,¡± Marek said with a smirk. ¡°For you? It¡¯s gonna be hell. But you¡¯ll figure it out if you don¡¯t die first.¡±


    Marek swung again, this time faster. Riven barely managed to parry, his arms straining under the force of the blow. He tried to counter, thrusting forward with a clumsy strike, but Marek sidestepped effortlessly and tapped the flat of his blade against Riven¡¯s shoulder.


    ¡°Dead,¡± Marek said simply, stepping back again.


    Riven groaned, rubbing his shoulder. ¡°This is impossible.¡±


    ¡°No, it¡¯s not,¡± Marek said, his tone softening slightly. ¡°You¡¯ve got good instincts¡ªyou¡¯re just not using them yet. Stop overthinking. Feel the fight. Trust your body, and let it move.¡± Marek surged forward again, his blade slicing through the air. Riven¡¯s instincts screamed at him to move, and he ducked just in time, Marek¡¯s sword grazing the hair above his head. He twisted, thrusting his blade toward Marek¡¯s chest, but the older man parried effortlessly.


    ¡°Still too slow,¡± Marek said, his voice sharp. He twisted his blade, aiming to throw Riven off balance.


    This time, Riven didn¡¯t let the momentum take him. Instead, he let go of the hilt with one hand and slammed his palm against the flat side of Marek¡¯s blade, forcing it to twist awkwardly in Marek¡¯s grip.


    The unexpected move sent a shock up Marek¡¯s arm, throwing him off balance for a split second. Riven pressed the advantage, stepping forward and shoving his shoulder into Marek¡¯s chest. Marek staggered back, his eyes widening in surprise.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Riven didn¡¯t hesitate. He swung his blade in a quick upward arc, aiming for Marek¡¯s side. Marek barely managed to block, the force of the strike forcing him to reset his stance.


    When Marek finally stepped back, lowering his blade, he was grinning ear to ear.


    ¡°Well, I¡¯ll be damned,¡± he said, his tone equal parts impressed and amused. ¡°I¡¯ve sparred with plenty of fighters over the years¡ªkids, soldiers, even knights¡ªand not one of them ever thought to pull a stunt like that.¡±


    Riven straightened, panting and wiping sweat from his brow. ¡°Was it¡­ bad?¡± he asked hesitantly.


    ¡°Bad?¡± Marek scoffed. ¡°Kid, it was brilliant. Cheap, but brilliant. You¡¯re not just swinging that blade like a hammer¡ªyou¡¯re thinking, adapting, using everything you¡¯ve got. If you keep this up, I¡¯ll never be able to predict what you¡¯re going to do next.¡± Marek stepped back, lowering his sword completely. ¡°But here¡¯s the thing,¡± he said, his tone shifting. ¡°This?¡± He gestured to Riven¡¯s sword. ¡°It¡¯s not enough. That little trick you pulled on me? It¡¯ll work once, maybe twice. But against a Knight-Class vampire, or worse? You¡¯ll need more than raw talent. You¡¯ll need spells.¡±


    Riven frowned, glancing down at his blade. ¡°Spells?¡±


    Marek nodded. ¡°That speed I showed you earlier? Just a basic buff spell. Nothing fancy, but it¡¯s the kind of edge you need if you¡¯re going to survive out there. Talent¡¯s good, kid, but it won¡¯t mean a damn thing if you can¡¯t channel your mana in a fight.¡±


    ¡°How am I supposed to do that?¡± Riven asked, his voice tinged with frustration. ¡°I can¡¯t even use Fortify without sitting still and closing my eyes. How am I supposed to do it when someone¡¯s trying to kill me?¡±


    ¡°Practice,¡± Marek said simply. ¡°Keep using Fortify. Before training, after training, before you go to bed. Hell, even when you¡¯re eating. You need to make it second nature. Once you can walk, run, and fight while keeping your mana flowing, then you¡¯ll start to understand.¡±


    Riven let out a frustrated sigh. ¡°Why can¡¯t we just jump into real training once I figure it out?¡±


    Marek smirked. ¡°Because, kid, you¡¯ve got to learn how to crawl before you can walk. And you¡¯ve got to learn how to walk before you can fight. Skipping steps gets you killed.¡± By the time they stopped, Riven was drenched in sweat, his arms trembling as he leaned on his sword for support. Marek handed him a flask of water, his grin still plastered across his face.


    ¡°Not bad for your first real spar,¡± Marek said, his tone gruff but approving. ¡°You¡¯re sloppy, slow, and you leave yourself wide open half the time¡ªbut you¡¯re getting there.¡±


    Riven took a long drink, glaring at Marek over the rim of the flask. ¡°You¡¯ve got a funny way of giving compliments,¡± he muttered.


    ¡°It¡¯s not a compliment, kid,¡± Marek said, sitting down on a nearby rock. ¡°It¡¯s the truth. You¡¯re good, but you¡¯re not ready yet. You¡¯ve got talent, sure, but talent won¡¯t mean a thing unless you put in the work. And trust me, there¡¯s a hell of a lot of work ahead.¡±


    Riven nodded, his jaw tightening as he set the flask aside. ¡°I¡¯ll get there,¡± he said quietly, more to himself than to Marek. ¡°I don¡¯t care how long it takes¡ªI¡¯ll get there.¡±


    Marek smirked, resting his blade against his shoulder. ¡°We¡¯ll see, kid. We¡¯ll see.¡± The sun had dipped low in the sky, streaking the forest in hues of gold and red. Marek stretched his shoulders, the weight of his massive blade now resting against a nearby tree. ¡°Alright, enough for today. It¡¯s getting late,¡± he said, glancing toward the horizon.


    Riven blinked, startled by how much time had passed. His body ached from the constant movement, and the lingering burn of mana use weighed heavily on his limbs. ¡°Already?¡± he asked, his voice hoarse.


    Marek nodded, his expression growing more serious. ¡°We need to head back before the patrol parties start coming out. Vampires love this time of day.¡±


    As they packed up and began walking back toward their makeshift camp, the forest seemed to darken faster than usual. The gentle rustle of leaves gave way to an eerie stillness, broken only by the crunch of their boots on the dirt path.


    Riven shivered, glancing over his shoulder. ¡°Is it just me, or does it feel¡­ off?¡± he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.


    Marek didn¡¯t answer immediately. His hand moved to the hilt of his blade, his sharp eyes scanning the shadows around them. ¡°Keep walking,¡± he said, his tone low. ¡°And stay quiet.¡±


    Riven¡¯s heart began to race as he quickened his pace. The sense of being watched grew stronger with every step. From the corner of his eye, he caught the faintest flicker of movement in the trees.


    A low growl echoed through the forest, followed by another from the opposite direction. Riven froze, gripping his training sword tightly.


    ¡°Eyes forward, kid,¡± Marek hissed. ¡°Don¡¯t stop.¡±


    But as the growls grew louder and the shadows around them seemed to move, it became clear they were being followed. The chapter ends with Marek drawing his sword, his voice cutting through the tension:


    ¡°They¡¯ve found us.¡±