Dawn of light - Reincarnated as a villain

Chapter 16: Month later

A month had gone by since training with Drusilla started, and the change the young man had experienced in that period was nothing less than astounding. He had become stronger, quicker, and much more adept than he could have ever dreamed of. His body was harder, his mind sharper, and his knowledge of magic had increased considerably.

With his constant training, he had learned to use his affinities—fire, ice, and wind—to a level of efficiency he never thought was possible. Drusilla's instruction had proven to be invaluable. Her mastery of these elements herself provided him with information he would never have learned otherwise. Now he could call on and manipulate flames, control frost, and generate massive gusts of air at will, blending them into deadly attacks or complex defenses.

Avoiding her attacks had also gotten much better. When they began, her Rank-2 speed had been a blur to him, something he couldn't follow or avoid. But over time, with practice, and the nagging bite of her blade, he had learned to adapt. Now, he could avoid her blows even at Rank-4 speed, although it was still far from perfect. She still got through when he was distracted or too slow, but every wound was a lesson.

Regeneration, though still excruciatingly painful, had become a part of his routine. The constant agony of training had dulled his sensitivity to pain, and his tolerance had increased dramatically. What once brought him to his knees now only elicited a grimace.

His mastery of Crimson Weildling had also increased. Initially, he was unable to form even one spike of blood. But with hundreds of hours of practice, he had gained a level of dexterity that made him proud. He could now call up to ten spikes at once, each one precise. His arsenal included tendrils, shields, swords, and even larger constructs such as greatswords and spears. The adaptability of this ability made it one of his most dependable tools.

Even his Vital Surge skill had seen progress. Initially, he hesitated to use it, as the toll it took on his body was severe. But with Drusilla's encouragement, he pushed himself to test its limits. He learned to control the amount of blood he sacrificed, balancing the increase in power with the exhaustion it caused. In combat, it became a game-changer, allowing him to overpower opponents or escape dire situations.

But the most intimate and peculiar part of his routine was the nightly exchange of blood with Drusilla. After every training session, he would go to her room, where she would sink her fangs into his neck and drink her fill of his blood. In return, he would do the same to her. At first, it felt strange and invasive, but over time, it became second nature. The act created a bond between them that went beyond words, a connection that deepened with each passing night.

Drusilla, however, was becoming more and more... comfortable with him. If he was bathing, she would walk in without hesitation and join him. The first time it happened, he froze in shock, unsure of how to react. But her nonchalant attitude left no room for argument. She would simply bathe as though it were the most normal thing in the world.

She also started slipping into bed with him every night. By now, it had become routine, and he no longer resisted.

Her proximity and touch were both comforting and maddening. When she drank from him, her sensuality was palpable, and her reactions stirred something primal within him.

Now, after a month of intense training, he has reached the limit of his physical capabilities.

To grow further, he needed to advance from Tier-1 to Tier-2. Drusilla, noticing his plateau, decided it was time to teach him the mana technique that would allow him to break through.

He sat cross-legged on the floor of her bedroom, focusing as she began to guide him through the process. Her voice was calm and steady, carrying a soothing authority.

"First," she instructed, standing behind him, "breathe deeply. Imagine you're breathing in the essence of the world itself, not mana. Let it move through your whole body."

He shut his eyes and obeyed, breathing slowly and deeply. He imagined the air around him charged with a bright, invisible energy that he was sucking into himself.

"When you sense the essence," she went on, "lead it to the center of your body, where your core is. Let it blend with your core, becoming one with it."

He concentrated on visualizing the energy pooling in the center of his chest. His [Prodigy] trait, as always, made the process easier. The technique felt natural, as though he had done it countless times before. Slowly, he guided the energy to his core, feeling it meld and synchronize.

As the harmonization completed, a surge of power coursed through him. His mana reserves expanded, the increase palpable. His entire body felt revitalized, as though he had shed a heavy weight he hadn't realized he was carrying.

He opened his eyes, meeting Drusilla's gaze. A smile played on her lips. "Good," she said approvingly. "From now on, you will practice this daily before training. It will strengthen your foundation and prepare you for future breakthroughs."

"Understood," he replied, his voice steady.

She stepped closer, her smile turning into something more playful. Without warning, she grabbed his hand and threw him onto the bed. Before he could react, she climbed on top of him, straddling his waist.

"It's meal time," she said, her voice dripping with mischief.

He barely had time to process her words before she leaned down, licking his neck. The sensation sent a shiver through him, a mix of anticipation and pleasure.

"Drusilla—" he began, but her fangs sank into his skin before he could finish.

The sharp pain quickly melted into an intoxicating pleasure. His blood flowed into her, and she let out soft, sensual moans that only heightened the experience. The bond between them deepened with every moment, a connection forged in blood and something more primal.

But he couldn't let her have all the fun. He leaned forward, sinking his own fangs into her neck. Her warm, rich blood filled his mouth, and a low moan escaped her lips.

Her body pressed against his, her hands trailing down his back as he drank. The intimacy of the moment was overwhelming, their connection more profound than ever. By now, touching her had become second nature, and his hand found its way to her waist, then lower, grabbing her butt, earning a soft moan from her.

She didn't stop him—instead, she leaned closer, her hands roaming his back as they continued their exchange. It wasn't until both of them were satisfied, their hunger calmed, that she pulled away.

Her lips were stained with his blood, her crimson eyes glowing faintly as she smiled down at him.

Exhaustion from the training and the blood exchange caught up with him, and he collapsed back onto the bed.

Drusilla chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair from his face.

"You're hopeless," she murmured, lying down beside him. She pulled him close, her arms wrapping around him like a koala.

Her presence was warm, her scent soothing, and though he tried to protest, sleep claimed him quickly.

As he drifted off, the thought lingered in his mind: "I'm not, you're hopeless here."