The next day, Draven sighed internally.
> *I know I said I wasn't gonna do shit in this life... but apparently, my old man didn't get the memo.*
His father had been insisting for quite a while now that if Draven couldn't use mana, then he had to at least learn how to defend himself.
So here he was.
Standing in the training courtyard.
Sunlight slanted across the polished stone as Draven faced his father.
Kaelen, the Vampire King himself, stood calmly before him.
"So, which weapon would you prefer?"
Draven blinked.
> *Huh.*
> *Never really thought about that before.*
> *In my last life, I mostly used guns. Not exactly an option here.*
> *I dabbled in boxing. Knew my way around a knife.*
> *But honestly...*
He looked down at his own hands.
> *I think I'd rather just use these.*
"I'll use my hands," Draven said.
Kaelen gave a small nod.
"Alright then. Let's begin."
---
Even though he was a half-breed, Draven knew he could regenerate.
> *Still not sure about the limits, though.*
> *Like, can I regrow a whole arm?*
> *Not that I'm eager to test that.*
> *Missing a hand kinda ruins the whole 'easy life' plan I had going.*
He exhaled.
Then squared up.
And rushed forward.
His fist shot toward Kaelen.
Kaelen raised one hand.
**Thud.**
He blocked the punch effortlessly.
A faint smirk appeared on his face.
"Try harder."
His voice was calm.
Almost amused.
> *Damn.*
> *The old man's strong.*
> *Even if I went all in, I doubt I could land a scratch.*
Draven grinned anyway.
"Okay then..."
He lowered his stance.
"Old man, here I come!"
He launched forward again.
One punch.
Then another.
Then another.
A barrage of punches came from every direction—fast, wild, and sharp.
But Kaelen blocked every strike.
Some were caught.
Others were redirected.
A few were simply avoided.
Draven couldn't even touch him.
"Is that all?"
Draven's expression twitched.
Before he could answer—
Kaelen stepped forward.
"Okay."
His fist tightened.
"My turn."
**Bang!**
Draven barely managed to raise his arm in time.
The impact sent pain exploding through his bones.
He stumbled backward.
> *Shit.*
> *My hand's broken.*
He looked down at his fingers.
They were already beginning to move again.
Kaelen chuckled.
"Come on. You're still a vampire, even if you're a hybrid. A few broken bones won't kill you."
Draven winced as he flexed his injured fingers.
"Old man... you for real right now?"
Kaelen cracked his knuckles.
"Of course."
He took another step forward.
"If you don't want to get your ass kicked, you'd better step it up."
> *So much for self-defense.*
> *This feels more like a beatdown.*
Still—
Draven kept going.
He attacked again.
And again.
And again.
Every time he was knocked back, he got back up.
Every time something broke, it healed.
Every time Kaelen told him to try harder—
he did.
Until the sun finally dipped beneath the horizon.
---
That evening, sore and exhausted, Draven found himself deep in the woods outside the castle with his mother, Elliana.
She crouched low beneath the trees, her silver-white hair gleaming beneath the moonlight.
"Now," she whispered.
"Stealth and escape."
She pointed toward the surrounding forest.
"Quiet your breath. Watch the shadows."
Draven stared at her.
> *First I get my bones snapped by the old man.*
> *Now I'm learning how to sneak around like a damn ninja?*
He slowly looked around the dark forest.
> *Man... what the fuck is this?*
> *I was looking for peace.*
> *Instead, I got thrown into boot camp from hell.*
He moved carefully through the trees.
Then—
**crunch.**
A patch of dry leaves cracked beneath his foot.
Draven froze.
> *Shit.*
He glanced toward his mother.
Elliana simply watched him.
No expression.
No words.
Just waiting.
Draven sighed internally.
> *This ain't the easy life I wanted.*
> *Ain't nothing easy about this shit.*
He continued forward.
A few moments later, he stumbled through another patch of leaves and cursed under his breath.
> *Low-key, maybe it's a blessing I can't use magic.*
> *If I could, they'd probably have me out here casting spells in Latin or something.*
> *Nah.*
> *I'm good.*
Still—
despite the bruises, soreness, and frustration...
there was something else.
Something warm.
His parents—
deadly as they were—
cared about him.
They showed it in their own strange, violent, vampire-elf way...
but it was real.
Later that night, Draven lay on his back in his room, staring up at the moon through the window.
He let out a quiet breath.
Then smiled.
> *Alright.*
> *I'll give it a shot.*
A brief pause.
> *But I'm still gonna complain the whole damn time.*