Clara tilted her head slightly at her master’s explanation of this so-called Jeanne d’Arc.
"A warrior girl who led armies... heard the voice of God... and was burned for witchcraft? And how old was this Jeanne?"
Adam shrugged at the question and responded.
"Sixteen years old, according to the story."
"I see... hmm, it’s nice to see a fellow woman being praised for their efforts... Hard work and merit truly do pay off."
"Though I cannot fault the story. It seems this Jeanne d’Arc and I share... similarities. A shame I was never canonized for my efforts. But then again... I don’t want to be burned alive either, but... I still think my end is far more brutal than hers."
"Ugh! Tell me about it. Being burnt alive is a painful way to go; trust me, I would know."
Said Adam, causing Clara to slowly turned her to him, her expression still remained the same but Adam could tell that shit wanted to say, "You say that as if you were burnt alive once," which was indeed true, earlier tonight he got his ass cooked by a Bulgae.
But that was a story he would rather tell at another time.
He wanted to compliment her swordsmanship, because damn, it was impressive, but something else also caught his attention. The Blood of Alash was doing something strange to him. He had seen Clara use her technique once before, and oddly enough, he felt like he could mimic it, even without fully understanding how or why
Because of this, he also knows, as a result of instinct, that if he didn’t have a proper blade in his hand. He just knew it wouldn’t work right without one. It was a condition-based ability. Just like Clara couldn’t use her Phantom Blade Sword Style without a sword, he felt the same limitation pressing against him.
But he would not know unless he tries.
Either way, though, Adam moved up the conversation by saying.
"Legend or not, it still doesn’t change the fact you’re powerful, even more so as a vampire now, even if you lose the ability to use arcane."
Clara, on the other hand, just gave the faintest nod of acknowledgment.
"Merci, mon maître. Our family sword style is indeed... unique. But it was not without flaw."
Inquired Adam out of curiosity, to which Clara spoke, saying.
"Humans...no matter how well-trained, remain bound by the limits of their flesh. When I was still among the living, this technique... it was very demanding. It placed tremendous strain upon the mind, the eyes, the nerves. A single misstep in aligning with the Imaginary Axis could rupture blood vessels, provoke seizures...even cause permanent damage to the brain. The human body was never meant to perceive such fractured geometries, mon maître. But now, as a vampire, most of those bodily limitations are gone. What gets damaged in this process, I just heal like it’s nothing."
"Damn. That’s intense, I guess you have to train yourr ass off, to keep yourself from overloading ha?"
"Very much so, mon maître... Many things made our family’s swordsmanship possible. We depended on special drugs, strict training, and painful body modifications through alchemy."
Clara admitted, then continued.
"From fillette to a grown woman, I was reshaped through painful augmentation, step by step so my body could adapt as I age. But above all, we survived by the grace of the Arcane. Practicing the Divine Logos upon the battlefield... allowed me to surpass the limits of my humananity...again and again."
Hearing this, Adam began to speak up as he bluntly said.
"Again, your childhood is seriously messed up."
"...It was simply the norm of society, mon maître. Many believe that nobility equates to privilege or ease. I regret to disillusion you, but that is far from the truth. Yes, there were corrupt nobles, bien sûr, but those of true noble lineage were often sacrificed at the whim of the crown if we failed to meet expectations."
"While the common folk lived in misery, even when we nobles tried to serve with honor, in the end, we were just as expendable. If not more."
Said Clara as she tried to educate her master on the topic of human nobility way of life. But his response was not what she expected.
His nocturnal blue eyes shimmered faintly under the dim cave light as a passive dark aura formed around him, thick enough to make her feel fear from one so small, It was cool, calm, and impossibly deep for someone who looked so young.
"Man... that does sound rough."
He said with a small chuckle, tilting his head slightly as if processing her tale.
"But I guess that’s the difference between your world... and mine."
There was no anger in his tone. No bitterness. Just a strange sort of gravity that came from someone born into something far darker.
"Publicly speaking, I cannot be human. As far as everyone from Minerva village known, I was born a monster...and out here, that means something very different."
His smile was faint but not friendly. More like the curl of a blade.
"In monster society, nobility doesn’t mean manners or titles. It is a proof of undeniable, unchallengable, and unfathomable strength among our kind. The right to rule is carved in blood and power; rarely do we get betrayed, as many monsters worship the great families as much as they fear it. Look at me, for instance, I belong to one of the Thirteen Great Families. The Shinso. Sixth in the line of royal blood recognized across the entire monster world."
He let that hang for a moment, as if daring anyone who heard him to deny it.
"Humans chase gold, cling to morality, build walls of rules to protect themselves from each other. Monsters? Yeah, we don’t bother with any of that."
He shrugged, effortlessly.
"Why pay for something when you can rip it out of someone’s hands? Why hire servants when the weak already bend the knee? Why look for love when domination gets you everything faster?"
He paused, letting his words settle. After all, if Clara wants to live her new life in the Monster World, she needs to know their way.
Then he smiled again, a little softer this time, but still a bit sharp.
"Although I will admit... I don’t like that last part much, to be honest. It never really sat right with me, how love work in this place, thats why I will be damned if I man ever comes into my house, the only dick allowed in that bitch is me. Guess I’m broken by monster standards.
He hovered forward, casting no shadow as a result of the darkness around him.
"I might’ve grown up in this twisted world, learned its laws, played its games... but I’m what they’d call a hopeless case. A harem idiot with too much heart and too little chill."
Said Adam, his hands folded, as he closed his eyes and spoke.
"If it comes down to it, I won’t hesitate to burn a kingdom to the ground. I won’t flinch if the world needs to be reset just to protect the people I care about... Someway, somehow, I will pull it off, even if I train for millions of years, I always get my way in the end with enough training."
His voice didn’t rise, nor did it waver. Rather, it was an eerie calm... Hell, his words they felt certain even, like an immutable fact.
"Because in the end... the only greater good that matters to me...is my own. I know I am a total asshole, but better being an asshole that wins than a loser who wines and cries alot right?"
He looked back at Clara, eyes glowing faintly like a stars trapped in deep water.
"So yeah. That is my view on things, but just because that how I see things, you don’t need to follow my view, I may be your master, but I am not cold enough to ignore your feelings, although I will say this, I ill require to fight when needed, that is all I ask of you."
Hearing her master’s speech, Clara’s crimson eyes widened ever so slightly, a rare breach in her usual stoic composure. A soft flush of pink touched her pale cheeks.
And then, almost mechanically, she tilted her head to the side, brushing a few strands of raven hair behind her ear as if nothing had happened.
Not quite a whisper. Not quite intentionally either, rather she spoke her mind out loudly. It was wild hearing these kinds of statements from a child.
"...Mon Dieu... What a frightening man."
The words slipped from her mouth like breath...absent-minded, as if she were speaking to herself. But the cave heard it. And so did Adam.
She quickly stiffened, regaining her poise with a soft clearing of her throat.
"Pardon me, mon maître. I did not mean to speak aloud."
But the faint color on her cheeks refused to fade. What little emotions she had left were being shown even in its suppressed state.
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