Guilt & Pride Clashing

[Diana's POV]

The classroom was alive with the sound of clashing blades, crackling of arcane energies, walls of fire blasting to the ceiling, etc.

In the middle of all these organized battles were Ryland and I. Our training platform crackled with an electric tension as the two of us faced each other, ready to engage in our own personal clash of blades and magic.

To ensure that no interference could occur, a dome of magic covered the platform.

If this was any other class, these realistic duels would never be allowed due to the lack of safety but because this was a First Class course and every student here was the cream of the crop, it was allowed by the government and the academy.

"When's the last time we faced each other?" asked Ryland, stretching his legs.

"Last month," I responded.

"What's the record? 3-2 in my favor?"

"I didn't realize a draw could be considered a victory for you," I responded.

With a cheeky grin, he noticed that I was missing something. "Where's your wand?" he questioned.

Indeed it was out of character for me not to use a wand but for some reason, with every passing day, I felt more comfortable not having it.

Yes, there are benefits to having a wand such as faster casting for difficult spells and better magic control but since I became a vampire, my nails felt like they were daggers and it felt right using them in partnership with my ice magic.

"I'm trying a new fighting style," I answered.

"Then I guess the record will be 4-2 after this," predicted Ryland, confident in himself.

'We'll see about that.'

My opponent, Ryland, moved with the grace and precision of a ninja from the East despite being raised in the West.

His double daggers glinted in the sunlight, thirsty for a taste of blood.

With the free potions that were provided for this course, there was no need to worry about minor injuries.

Crouching low like a stalking panther, Ryland's daggers gleamed with a deadly allure.

I stood tall, my fingers crackling with ardent energy, prepared to unleash my icy powers at any given moment.

As the panther dashed forward and pounced, I threw needles of ice to alter his pathing.

He weaved through them effortlessly and as he got close, like a tornado, he spun around me, throwing a combo of dagger attacks from all directions.

I dodged them all, waiting for a moment to counter, and when I found it, I created a miniature glacier that shot up from the ground.

Ryland was able to dodge it by mere centimeters and he pulled back.

"Woah... you're quicker," he said, wiping sweat from his forehead.

"Thank you," I smirked.

"You're also using fewer big spells and instead focusing on basic moves," he commented. "Interesting choice."

"Enough talking. Come," I told him, gesturing with my hand.

As we dueled, I could feel a now familiar surge of mana coursing through my veins. Compared to the one that I was born with, this one was stronger and purer.

The more I relied on it, the more conflicted I became.

I knew the reason behind this newfound quality of the power within; obviously, it originates from the vampire blood that flows through my body.

The vampiric essence that now had a tighter hold on me, not only unleashed more of my dormant potential but also amplified my magical abilities to astonishing heights.

I didn't want to show it because I felt like others could get suspicious but if I wanted to, it was not only the basic spells and techniques that I was quicker with. I could also cast an advanced spell almost half the time I used to take before.

It truly was a gift and a curse, a very delicate balance that I had yet to fully comprehend.

On one hand, this feeling of being more powerful was a feeling that I never wanted to let go of but on the other hand, it scared me.

I question whether or not I'm betraying my own identity.

I wonder if I'm cheating not only on my own journey but also on those that believed in my original talent and growth.

"Are you sure you have the time to be in deep thought?" questioned Ryland as he lunged forward, his dominant dagger aiming for my heart.

All students wore gear to protect their internal organs so it wasn't too dangerous of a move by my opponent.

I sidestepped his strike and before he could adjust his trajectory, I retaliated with a powerful blast of ice that I had been preparing for a few seconds beforehand, encasing his feet in a frozen prison.

Just because I'm thinking doesn't mean I can't multitask.

He struggled to break free, but I held him in place, watching as frustration flickered in his eyes.

"I have plenty of time in the world," I responded, pretending to yawn.

"3-3," said Ryland who was both baffled and impressed.

But amidst the exhilaration of the battle, a deep hunger was beginning to gnaw at the core of my being; it was a craving for mana and blood.

Instinctively, I placed my hand on my stomach, caressing it as if the simple act could satiate the desire that was clawing at me.

Gulping, I yearned for another taste of that sweet blood. I wanted to request another session of feeding between myself and Bell.

'I just drank a few hours ago,' I reminded myself.

I shook my head. Not only would it be shameless of me to ask, but it would also reinforce the idea that I was succumbing to my vampiric side and abandoning my humanity.

'I have plenty of mana left in me. I'm not in a bloodthirsty frenzy either. I can hold myself back,' I told myself, trying to convince my body.

Waving my hand, I sent a surge of energy and released Ryland from his icy prison, and he stumbled backward.

"I thought my feet were about to shatter," he said in disbelief.

Offering him my hand, I helped him to his feet and we separated for a break.

Picking up my phone, I checked to see if anyone texted me and as if they had a mind of its own, my fingers somehow opened up the text messages between myself and Bell.

Our texts were very short and few and if one didn't know the context behind them, they just looked like nonsense.

My thumb hovered over the keyboard on the screen, teetering on the edge of sending a message.

I could almost taste the blood on my tongue, the surge of mana and power that came with it.

But after a moment, a sense of clarity washed over me.

Embarrassed and ashamed of my own thoughts, I shook my head, closing my phone. I couldn't let this desire for blood dictate my actions.

Unless it was necessary for the sake of protecting my identity and suppressing the urges, there was no need to text this man.

None.

With a resolute sigh, I placed the phone down and took a drink of water. The selfish hunger within me persisted, but I told myself that I made the right decision.

Selfish cravings were a no-go.

"Round one goes to you," said Ryland, a hint of admiration in his voice. "But don't forget this is a best of three. The next two are mine."

"We'll see about that," I responded.

Our eyes locked once more, determination etched on his face as he prepared to try even harder to win a round.

Energy crackled in the air around him and he looked like a storm waiting to be unleashed.

I was normally a defensive fighter and last round, I played a more counterattacking approach.

How would it be if I went on the offensive as well?

As Ryland's nimble form blurred as he darted toward me, his daggers shimmering with deadly intent, I also rushed forward with quicker legs than ever.

Meeting his charge with extended fingernails made of ice, I pushed him back slightly before sending a torrent of freezing winds spiraling toward him.

He twisted and spun, evading the biting winds with an acrobatic finesse that he was known for.

But that wasn't the end of what I had in store for him; channeling the raw power coursing through me, I quickly conjured a swirling vortex of frost as Ryland was busy regaining his composure.

He muttered, "What the—", as the icy tendrils of the vortex snaked toward him.

Weaving through the frozen onslaught with agility akin to a dancer, his movements fluid and precise, he was able to survive the spell.

But I could see on his expression that his movements took a lot out of him as he must've used a lot of mana of his body to push it beyond the limit.

I rushed towards him first this time around and he reacted with a rush of his own.

The clash of his daggers and my fingernails filled the platform once again.

An orchestra of arcane forces collided between us.

Although it looked equal as we exchanged blows that were blocked or dodged by the other person, an expert could clearly see that I came out on top of every exchange.

Each wave of his daggers was met with a barrage of frost and shared ice, creating a dazzling display of light and frost.

The dance between us was deadly, our every step and move was extremely calculated and strategic.

My moves were calculated to win the battle.

Ryland's moves were to merely survive at this point.

I could clearly see just how far he was pushing himself. If this was the previous round, I probably would've won by now but Ryland was not only surviving but he was also growing.

As I admired his talent, the hunger inside me gnawed relentlessly.

The whispers in my ears, urging me to succumb to my vampiric instincts, to draw and taste blood from Bell Agnus — it grew more and more.

I fought against this insidious temptation, trying my hardest to focus on the thrill of battle.

Ryland thought he finally saw a hole in my array of attacks as he finally pressed his most ambitious strike of this round.

It was quick and precise. He lunged forward, his daggers aiming at the blind spot but I had given him this opportunity on purpose as I met his aggression with a surge of freezing energy.

His strike was met with a shield formed by ice crystals, deflecting his assault with a resounding clash.

The impact clearly reverberated through Ryland's body.

This wasn't just a simple shield spell. No, it was something far more complex.

The shield expanded and before Ryland could shake off the impact and fall back to regather himself, it had turned into a box, capturing him like a beast at the zoo.

He tried to escape by slashing at the shield but I had far more mana in my body to preserve the box than he did to escape and eventually, he was rendered immobile as the cold slowed him down.

Silence took over this platform that was loud and fierce moments ago.

Before Ryland could get too hurt by the cold, I dismissed the box.

Falling onto his back, Ryland broke the silence with his labored breaths.

He gazed up at me, exhaustion and admiration shimmering in them.

"You've grown much stronger, Diana," he murmured, complimenting me with a voice tinged with respect.

I felt a little guilty about it. As if I cheated this man of a fair battle.

But, I still had this sense of accomplishment and pride in me so I nodded.

"And you did well against a style from me that you've never faced before. I'm grateful for your efforts."

"No problem," he chuckled.