1 Year Later, Poison Forest
–ROAR– –CLANG– –CLANG– –BOOM–
Piera dusted his his ragged cloak, the sharp scent of monster blood thick in the air. His once-blue eyes were now sharper - cold, calculating. After the massacre of his family by the hands of Hao Jun, he resolved his mind that if he wanted to avenge his family, he would have to train to the extreme, and the place Croti recommended was any place with corrupted mana, luckily, there were different restricted areas like that. Croti caused a distraction and he snuck in. Day after day, in the corrupted forest where not even a blademaster could survive 6 months, he trained. Fought. Bled. Lived. At this point, Piera was a user of both the sword and the gun.The only reason he survived the past 2 weeks without a proper mana flow was because of Croti, every time he would reach near-death scenarios, Croti would cover him with smoke, which would normalize his breathing flow and in turn, recuperate him until he would be ready to fight again. He didn't have a proper sword, so he trained his hands to the point that they could pierce through stone.
After one year of carnage, he was now an official Stage 3 Sword Trainee and Gun User.
"I guess that's the last one of 'em." Piere moaned and stretched around
"Watch it, you arrogant idiot!"
Croti's voice thundered just as a shadow blurred past. A three-faced wire beast pounced from above—too fast. Piera turned too late. The impact knocked him flying into a tree, the air ripped from his lungs. Croti groaned inside his head.
"You still can't sense creatures with silent mana trails. This is not just your body, I'm feeling some of the pain too. You're going to get yourself killed one of these days."
Piera coughed, staggered to his feet, and spat blood. "Hoh, I guess even a fallen entity can't bear the pain from a mere feralborn." He said as he stabbed the beast to death.
Croti paused, then chuckled, "*Ahem* Well, the pain was nothing to me, I'm just warning you"
As the wind rustled the blighted trees around them, another presence entered the clearing. Silent, smooth. Piera instinctively raised his hands. "I wouldn't bother," came a cool voice, laced with amusement and authority. A boy, around his age—pale skin, sleek gray hair, crimson-red eyes that glowed softly in the dim light. He wore a black uniform etched with blue runes, and a faint, regal pressure followed him like a cape of invisible energy.
"A vampire… No, a half-vampire" Croti muttered.
"You've lasted a year here," the vampire said, hands in his pockets. "Impressive. Most adults without mana wouldn't survive a month."
Piera didn't respond. His eyes narrowed.. The vampire smiled. "Name's Auren Valemir. I've been observing you, from the very beginning, since you snuck in here. I also have the power of a fallen entity. You have one too right?"
"What do you want?"
Auren tilted his head. "To help you. Train you. And maybe... elevate your status. What you've done here? It deserves recognition. And power." Croti whispered, "He's dangerous… but not hostile. I can also sense the fallen entity of black blood with him"
Piera's grip tightened—then slowly loosened. "…Fine. But if this is a trick— You'll be leaving here in a body bag. And if it's not, I'll follow you, but don't suck my blood"
"It's not a trick," Auren said, walking past him. "Come on. You've already proved yourself to me. Now let's go show the world what happens when monsters don't kill a boy—they forge one."
And thus, Piera's journey of revenge began, with a great start