My Blood Legacy: Bloodlines

The ground still bore the marks of previous impacts when Victor repositioned himself before Carmilla, the air around them heavy not only with vampiric energy, but with the brutal repetition of trial and error that had been dragging on for hours. The technique she had demonstrated at the beginning seemed simple when observed from the outside—an instantaneous, almost elegant displacement, as if the body simply ceased to obey the linearity of space—but in practice it was something completely different. There was nothing smooth about it for someone who didn’t yet understand their own body at the necessary level. There was only misdirected force, uncontrolled speed... and immediate consequences.

Victor advanced again.

This time, he tried to adjust the point of impulse exactly as Carmilla had instructed, concentrating the blood flow in his legs before releasing the movement. For a brief instant—a single instant—it seemed to work. His body disappeared from its initial position with absurd speed, leaving a distorted trail in the air, as if reality had been slightly torn by his passage.

And then—

The sound came. A sharp crack.

Then another.

And yet another.

His body reappeared a few meters ahead... but not in the way he wanted. His legs completely gave way under his own weight, the bones visibly misaligned, grotesquely broken, unable to support anything. He fell to his knees hard, the impact reverberating across the floor as a muffled sound escaped his throat—not exactly a scream, but not silence either.

For a second, nothing happened.

And then the regeneration began.

The bones rearranged themselves with small internal cracks, the flesh adjusting, rebuilding, as if it were just a passing inconvenience. The pain was still there—it always was—but it was no longer something that stopped him. It was part of the process.

Carmilla watched everything without moving, her arms crossed over her chest, her eyes analyzing every detail with an almost clinical coldness. There was no visible concern in her expression, only assessment.

"Again," she said simply.

Victor chuckled softly through his nose, still kneeling, supporting himself with one hand on the floor as he felt his legs return to a functional state. He looked up at her, an irritatingly determined glint still present.

"You really don’t go easy on me, do you..."

Carmilla raised an eyebrow slightly, unimpressed.

"If I went easy on you, you wouldn’t learn," she replied naturally. "And if you don’t learn, you’ll die the first time you try to use this against someone who knows what they’re doing."

Victor didn’t argue this time.

He simply stood up.

He took a deep breath.

And tried again.

The pattern repeated itself.

And again.

And once more.

With each attempt, small improvements emerged—almost imperceptible adjustments in posture, in how he distributed his weight, in how he activated blood flow—but the end result remained the same: excessive force, lack of control, and bones that couldn’t keep up with the brutality of the movement itself.

Hours passed like this.

Time ceased to be relevant.

The floor was now marked by multiple points of impact, small cracks that revealed where he had failed, where he had fallen, where his body simply couldn’t withstand what he was trying to do.

In one attempt, he managed to advance further than before—much further. The movement was fast enough to create a visible distortion in the air, as if his silhouette had been dragged for a second before stabilizing. For a moment, it seemed he had finally succeeded.

And then his legs simply... collapsed again.

This time worse.

The bones didn’t just break—they practically shattered under the pressure.

Victor fell to the side, the dry impact echoing through the room as he let out a heavier sigh, closing his eyes for a brief moment as regeneration began once more.

Carmilla walked to him this time.

No hurry.

No urgency.

She stopped beside him, looking down while he was still on the ground, his bones rebuilding beneath his skin.

"You’re trying to run," she said, her voice calm but firm. "And that’s not a running technique."

Victor opened one eye, looking up at her.

"...Oh, isn’t it?" he murmured, with a slight ironic tone.

She ignored the tone.

"The speed here doesn’t come from movement," she continued, crouching slightly to get closer to his level. "It comes from the correct release of what’s already inside you."

Victor remained silent, listening.

Carmilla reached out and gently pressed two fingers against his leg—exactly where the bone had just healed.

"The problem isn’t strength," she said. "You have too much strength." Her eyes rose to meet his. "The problem is that you don’t understand your own body."

He let out a small sigh through his nose.

"Okay... I already figured that out."

She didn’t smile.

"You’re treating your body like something external," she continued, withdrawing her hand and standing up again. "Like it’s a tool you need to control." She crossed her arms again. "But that’s not how it works."

Victor placed his hands on the ground and slowly stood up, now completely regenerated once more.

"And how does it work, then?"

Carmilla tilted her head slightly.

"You need to feel," she said.

He raised an eyebrow.

"...Feel?"

She nodded.

"The blood in your veins," she explained, now in a slightly more didactic tone, but without losing her firmness. "You still don’t understand what it really is."

Victor fell silent.

Carmilla continued.

"Blood isn’t just a means of transportation," she said, walking slowly around him as she spoke. "It’s not just something that keeps your body functioning." Her steps were light, but full of intention. "It’s the center of everything."

Victor followed her movement with his eyes.

"It’s what fuels your muscles. It’s what provides energy. It’s what sustains your regeneration." She stopped in front of him again. "But, above all... it’s what defines your limit."

His gaze shifted subtly.

More attentive.

Less scattered.

"That’s why vampires get stronger when they drink blood," she continued. "It’s not just nutrition. It’s absorption." Her eyes narrowed slightly. "You embody what you consume."

Victor crossed his arms, thoughtful.

"...So it’s like... stacking attributes?"

Carmilla let out a light, almost impatient sigh.

"If you want to simplify it grotesquely, yes."

He gave a small smile.

"It works for me."

She ignored him.

"But it depends on genetics," she continued. "Some absorb little. Others absorb more." There was a brief pause. "And you..."

Her eyes locked on his more intensely.

"...absorb too much."

The silence that followed wasn’t long.

But it was significant.

Victor tilted his head slightly.

"...That’s good, right?"

Carmilla didn’t answer immediately.

"Yes," she said finally. "But it’s also dangerous."

He chuckled softly.

"Everything good in this world seems dangerous."

"Because you don’t know how to use it," she retorted without hesitation.

He accepted the answer with a shrug.

"Fair enough."

Carmilla took a step forward, slightly closing the distance between them.

"You’re trying to use an advanced technique," ​​she said, "without understanding the basics." Her eyes briefly dropped to his body, as if analyzing something beyond the physical. "You haven’t even begun to explore what you already have."

Victor narrowed his eyes slightly.

"...And what exactly do I have?"

Carmilla didn’t hesitate.

"The best blood you could have begun to explore," she replied.

He frowned slightly.

"...My mother."

Carmilla nodded.

"You haven’t drunk a single drop since you woke up," she said, with a slight tone of disapproval. "And yet you want to advance as if you were at your peak."

Victor looked away for a moment, thoughtful.

"...I didn’t think I needed to."

Carmilla let out a small sigh.

"You need to stop guessing," she said. "And start understanding."

He looked back at her.

"So you’re saying I should..."

"Drink," she interrupted, bluntly.

The silence that followed was thicker.

Victor ran a hand over his chin, thoughtful.

"...My mother’s blood, huh..."

Carmilla nodded again.

"If you want real strength," she said, "it’s no use looking anywhere else." Her eyes locked on his firmly. "You need blood that has value."

He chuckled softly.

"And you think hers is the best I can get right now."

"I’m sure of it," she replied.

Victor was silent for a few seconds.

Processing.

Weighing.

And then—

He smiled.

"...Okay," he said, with a slight glint in his eyes. "That... makes sense."

Carmilla didn’t answer.

But, for the first time since the start of training—

She seemed slightly satisfied.

"Now stand up," she said, taking a small step back. "And try again."

Victor let out a soft sigh.

"Sure..."

He positioned himself again.

He took a deep breath.

"Let’s continue~"