Training (2)

Weeks passed, and Adam's training became an unrelenting routine for Lycaon. From a single stone thrown by Adam, they quickly progressed to two, then three, and sometimes even more. Lycaon had learned to dodge them, to anticipate their trajectory, but also to catch them in mid-air.

Each training session was a progressively complex challenge under Adam's watchful eye. The stones were sometimes thrown unpredictably, forcing Lycaon to listen attentively, to feel the movement of the air, to trust his instincts to react in time.

The exercises took place in utter silence, except for the whistling of stones through the air and Lycaon's graceful movements as he dodged or caught the projectiles. He was learning to blend into the rhythm of combat, to become a natural extension of the surrounding environment.

Adam didn't hold back, launching each stone with deadly precision. Occasionally, a stone would graze him, leaving a scratch or a burn as evidence of its proximity. But Lycaon didn't give up. His determination was unshakeable, and he improved with each session.

Pain and fatigue had become constant companions for Lycaon, but he accepted them as indispensable teachers. Every scratch, every burn, was a lesson that brought him closer to his goal. He was learning to control his power, to synchronize his senses with almost supernatural precision, and to react with lightning speed.

His routine had become simple: eat, sleep, and train. Sometimes, his mother would come to visit him, but their meetings were brief. Perhaps it was to toughen him up, to teach him to endure solitude. Members of other families, who had been ordered to befriend him, sometimes came to see him but left empty-handed without being able to meet him. Lycaon had no desire to socialize, preferring to focus on his training and mastering his burgeoning skills.

[6 months later]

Lycaon could be seen sitting on the ground, his breathing regular but slightly labored. His shoulders rose and fell gently, a testament to the effort he had just exerted. His bare chest bore the marks of previous challenges, scars of honor that spoke of his endurance and determination. With his regenerative ability, he could easily erase these scars, but he chose not to.

Adam, on the other hand, approached Lycaon, his face as impassive as ever, showing no emotion. His eyes scrutinized the young prince, perhaps looking for signs of contentment or satisfaction. He seemed to expect a more visible reaction, but Lycaon remained calm, as if he had become accustomed to such exhausting sessions.

Silence hung for a few moments, only broken by Lycaon's steady breathing. Adam slightly narrowed his eyes, then finally shook his head, as if he had drawn a conclusion.

"As impassive as ever," he muttered to himself.

Lycaon slowly raised his head to meet Adam's gaze, even though he couldn't do it literally.

Adam sighed slightly, as if he understood that Lycaon wouldn't be the type to express his emotions or satisfaction extravagantly.

"Very well," he continued, regaining his usual composure. "Now, we will work on something different."

Then, Adam paused before asking Lycaon a question. "First, what do you know about lineages among vampires?"

Lycaon, still calm and focused, replied, "Lineages among vampires represent genealogy and descent. Each vampire is linked to a lineage that traces back to an ancient vampire, the founder of that lineage. Members of the same lineage share similar traits, powers, and skills inherited from their founder. Vampires are deeply attached to their lineage because it largely defines who they are and what they can achieve."

Adam nodded, satisfied with the response. "Exactly. Let's take, for example, the respective bloodlines of the three major vampire clans.

"First comes the Scarlett clan, led by the strongest female vampire in the world, Scathach Scarlett. Their lineage grants them the ability of cryokinesis and hydrokinesis. And like any noble vampire, members of this clan, at birth, instinctively know how to use their abilities; all they have to do is refine their control.

"Second is the Snow clan, led by Agnès Snow, the craziest female vampire; their lineage's ability is pyrokinesis. This ability grants them immunity to sunlight and amplifies their emotions. The stronger their emotions, the stronger their flames become.

"Third is the Fulger clan, led by Annasthashia Fulger, the fastest current female vampire in the world. Their lineage offers them the ability of electrokinesis. The clan's ability is said to originate from the first clan head and matriarch, Countess Carmila Fulger. It was said that the first countess had a deep connection to lightning spirits; some even claimed she was originally a lightning spirit before becoming a vampire. Members of this clan are renowned for their speed, with the drawback of increasing recklessness as they manipulate lightning. Furthermore, this ability damages their endurance and is detrimental to vampires, perhaps due to its origin from a nature spirit.

"But, as mother mentioned, we wolves can use any element of nature as long as we have an affinity for it. However, due to your extreme ease in manipulating lightning, either you have an extreme affinity for lightning or you have assimilated your ability and turned it into your lineage, which would be unprecedented. In any case, from my own analysis, your ability places you on par with a lightning spirit, essentially at the same level as the first matriarch of the Fulger clan."

Lycaon listened attentively as Adam explained the different lineages of the major vampire clans. Thanks to inherited memories, he was already aware of most of this information, but he couldn't show that.

When Adam mentioned the Fulger lineage and the possibility that his ability might be similar to that lineage, Lycaon tilted his head slightly to the side, as if contemplating this possibility.

The young prince, still calm despite the importance of what he had just shared, lifted one corner of his lips in a slight smile, as if aware of the impact of his words. This discreet smile showed a growing confidence in his own abilities.

After a moment of reflection, Adam finally broke the silence. "Alright, now that you know all this, we will work on improving your control."

As Adam prepared to begin the new training session, Maya reappeared. She was there, seemingly out of nowhere, with her usual casual demeanor. She had a way of appearing and disappearing mysteriously, often at the most unexpected moments.

"I'll take it from here," she declared nonchalantly.

Adam, seeing no objection, nodded. Then, as if he had just realized something, he turned to her, his face slightly irritated.

"Wait, you waited for me to explain all this first, didn't you?" he accused.

Maya, caught off guard, simply turned her head. She shrugged with a sigh of resignation.

"Laziness," she replied with a teasing smile. Maya was known for her laid-back and sometimes irresponsible attitude, even as a mother.

Adam shook his head, both annoyed and powerless in the face of her unpredictable nature.

Suddenly, Maya disappeared and reappeared in front of Lycaon.

"Not yet," Lycaon instinctively recoiled.

"You're still too slow to evade me," Maya teased.

With a quick motion, she appeared behind him and lightly attacked his neck,

but Lycaon's hand was there to block the impact and thwart the strike.

"Oh? Good! Good! Good!" she exclaimed, laughing slightly. "However, it's still not enough."

With a swifter movement, she quickly applied more pressure to his neck this time, successfully reaching her target. Lycaon staggered briefly, then collapsed.

Without wasting time, Maya picked Lycaon up over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes and rushed to where his gaze remained fixed in the direction where his mother had disappeared, silently offering a small prayer for the young prince.

He was aware that his mother's training was notoriously Spartan, even more brutal than that of the Vikings. And he knew she wouldn't do anything that could jeopardize the prince's life, but despite that, he couldn't help but worry.

"Let's hope Lycaon survives," he murmured to himself. "Heh heh, maybe the next time we see each other, he'll be an entirely new man."

Lycaon, unconscious of everything happening around him, woke up with a groan. His left hand instinctively went to his neck, where Maya had struck.

"Damn," he swore for the first time.

"Is that how you greet your master?" Maya declared in a dramatic tone as she stood near him, her face displaying mock offense. "Look at all I've done for you, and that's how you greet me?"

Lycaon, still somewhat disoriented, turned his head to look around. He realized then that he was surrounded by massive stone walls adorned with imposing columns. The place strangely resembled a Roman colosseum, but it was hard to believe it was real.

"Where are we?" he asked, his voice filled with confusion and concern.

Maya, still smiling, shrugged. "Well, my dear Lycaon, welcome to your new training ground. Impressive, isn't it?"

"I had it built just for you," she added with a proud air.

Lycaon blinked, trying to get used to the idea that he was actually in a place that looked like a Roman colosseum. The architectural details, majestic columns, and grand atmosphere were breathtaking. He wondered what Maya had in mind.

"It's... incredible," he murmured, mixing amazement and concern in his voice.

Maya stood proudly in the center of the arena, looking at Lycaon with a satisfied expression. "I'm glad you appreciate it because we have work to do," she declared confidently.

"It's for this," she began, letting her intention to kill seep through to a lesser extent but sufficiently to form an invisible dome around them. The surrounding animals panicked, their cries filling the air, and they fled hurriedly to save their lives.

Even Lycaon was terrified at first, feeling the pressure of the threat emanating from Maya. But he bit his tongue to maintain his consciousness and resist.

Maya's gaze brightened as she saw Lycaon resisting her psychological pressure. "Good, good," she murmured, appreciating his determination. "Mental resistance is just as crucial as physical strength."

Suddenly, she attacked, moving at an almost inhuman speed. Her movements were fluid and graceful, yet deadly. She used her martial skills to force Lycaon to constantly move, dodge, block, and counter, all while maintaining the dome of psychological pressure.

"Pain is a friend, Lycaon," she said in a calm voice, though her fighting form was anything but tranquil. "It shows you're alive, that there are limits to be crossed. Keep your consciousness, focus on the fight."

Lycaon struggled, both physically and mentally, but he held on. Every blow, every scratch, every lightning burn that eluded him reminded him of his desire to become stronger. He forced himself to move forward despite the pain, to counter with more determination after each attack.

The battle continued, and with each passing second, Lycaon gained resistance to the pain.

When he began to perform well, Maya increased the intensity, continuing to push him, test his limits, and she was visibly satisfied with his progress.

And that's how Lycaon's real training began, in the majestic arena that Maya had created especially for him. Every wound was a lesson, but Lycaon devoted himself to it with unshakable determination.

In this arena, he had found his path, his inner strength, and most importantly, he had found an uncompromising mentor in Maya.

And as the sun set over their training arena, the two of them prepared for another day of grueling training, ready to push their limits even further.