Ayame didn’t know what to think. Every time she looked Vincent in the face now, she felt like punching him. Her anger was almost greater than her fear. Yes, only almost.

  Because deep down she knew Vincent was right. That he had done the right thing. Okay, it was probable she would have survived, even if he hadn’t done that. Probable, but not at all certain. It couldn’t be said he had acted recklessly.

  It was a mistake. She knew it perfectly well. That fear and shame were mostly what held her back. Shame because he saw her. Because he had seen her for what she was: a monster that fed on blood. A wild beast. Red eyes, sharp fangs and claws. She was good at pretending to be just another person, someone normal. But when the bloodlust hit, all her barriers, all her effort, crumbled. She was no different from any of her kind, no matter how much she tried to pretend otherwise. Tried to believe it even.

  And the fear. Fear that it was all over already. Her long-awaited new beginning. With a single glimpse of her fangs, extending at the taste of the slightest drop of blood. Hearing her roars.

  Vincent said nothing had changed. Nor would it ever change. That he didn't look at her differently.

  To be honest, she wasn’t… she wasn’t sure if it was true, even after the conversation. If she was just imagining things. What she wanted to believe and what she couldn’t believe, in perpetual conflict.

  “But I have to swallow all that,” she murmured, looking at herself in the mirror. “The fear. The anger. And the shame. I have to swallow all that. Swallow them. And move on.”

  Why? Well, because everything was fine. Everything had been going well until then. And there was no reason for that to change. She had everything she had wanted for so, so long. And she wasn't going to let anyone stand in her way. Especially not herself.

  ***

  Vincent sat on the bench. He threw his head back, breathing deeply. He didn’t feel very well. He was worried that Ayame was looking at him differently now. He had made that clear. But it was clear, it was obvious, that it wasn't his gaze that had changed.

  There was suspicion in Ayame’s eyes. Uncertainty. Not because she knew he was actually a Blacksmith, of course not. Not yet. It would be too soon. Well, he had no idea how that vampire ability worked, but anyway, it seemed too soon to him. And that it wasn’t about that. Not about him, but about her. As if, because of what she had seen yesterday, she was going to wake up and suddenly realize she was a vampiress after all. As if she didn’t already know it perfectly well and didn’t care. As if there was even a remote possibility that she would react like that.

  The fear was irrational, of course. But it hurt that she thought of him that way.

  “And we’re back to the same place,” he murmured. He felt betrayed because Ayame doubted him in that way and, yet, he wasn’t able to take the step forward and be honest. Although, due to his actions, now, Ayame knowing his secret was only a matter of time. Although anyway, there was nothing he could do to hide anything.

  “I’m a coward,” he said.

  There were many people around. No one paid him any attention. His voice was lost in the hubbub of the crowd. Anyway, even if someone saw him talking to himself, what the hell did they care? He couldn’t talk about this to anyone. So he only had one option left.

  But well, everything was already decided. There was nothing he could do at this point, right? Except wait for the moment to arrive.

  “Or maybe…” he murmured. “Maybe she’ll take it differently if I tell her, instead of letting her find out.”

  Vincent took a deep breath. An immense risk. Incommensurable. He felt he couldn’t move a finger, that any step, backward or forward, was a deadly trap.

  I feel like throwing up, he thought.

  Then…

  “Fight me.”

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  A woman’s voice tore him from his thoughts. Not for a pleasant reason, but he was grateful for it anyway.

  Vincent lifted his head. It was a woman, well, a girl he had never seen before. Just another student. Blonde, blue eyes. Pretty, he supposed. Not ugly, in any case. But what caught his attention was that she was dressed in a white shirt, white pants, white boots. He could only imagine what else. In any case, it didn't seem like very practical clothes for a fight; always quick and dirty affairs. But what did he care?

  “Yes, exactly. Why?” he asked.

  The girl, who hadn’t even bothered to introduce herself, crossed her arms.

  “This is a combat Academy and we are two combatants. I’m offering you a good fight. Is anything else needed?”

  He knew what he was going to answer, but anyway…

  “No. There are many people around here who would surely love to fight you.”

  “Sure. But very few Dragonslayers. Everyone is dying to fight you and the vampiress, to prove their worth. It’s just that they’re cowards. But I’m not. And I’m tired of waiting and wondering what it would be like.”

  Vincent simply looked back at her. He clenched his fists in his lap. He was thinking too much, but at least not about the same subject. Not about a sharp subject. Not about such a sharp subject.

  “Fight me. Please. What’s wrong? Do I have to mess with your girlfriend to make you want to fight me?”

  He didn’t bother to correct her. He didn’t dislike the idea of people thinking that, to be honest.

  “Are you talking about the fight with those idiots?”

  “Of course. Everyone’s talking about you.”

  “Look…” Vincent stood up. “It’s true. I’m not going to let anyone threaten her, not even as a joke.”

  “Great. Well then, fight me.”

  “You’re persistent,” Vincent sighed, but he considered it seriously. “Should I do it?”

  He didn’t even know the girl’s name, much less what class she belonged to. And if she was better than him, stronger, faster. And if she humiliated him… It was a possibility. Just as the girl had said, they were leaving them alone, mostly out of cowardice. They didn’t want to end up like those idiots. But if it was proven that the dragonslayer wasn’t such a big deal after all, that most of the credit belonged to Ayame, then things would change. Things could get really ugly.

  On the other hand…

  “Okay,” he said finally. “I guess it can’t be helped. After I’m done with you, they’ll leave me alone for a good while, at least.”

  The girl laughed.

  “Quite confident, aren’t you. I like it.”

  If only you knew, he thought. He was a bundle of nerves, a volcano about to erupt.

  Vincent followed her through the corridors.

  “You know, you haven’t introduced yourself.”

  “Oh, right. Everyone knows who you are, but the same doesn’t go for me. Sure. I almost forgot. Well, I forgot, period.”

  The girl scratched the back of her head. She might look pretty, like a doll, elegant, but she behaved in a rather masculine way, from what he had seen so far. Which wasn't a bad thing, of course.

  “Erika,” she said finally. “My last name… well, who cares, right?” She shrugged.

  “Erika. Okay.”

  They reached their destination. Erika opened the door. They stepped into a combat arena. There were no spectators. However this turned out, it wouldn't affect his reputation, at least for now. Erika might brag, but few would believe her. There was also the possibility that word would spread and the place would fill up with spectators in less time than it takes to sing a song.

  Vincent unsheathed his sword, drew his shield. He wasn’t wearing armor, but the same went for the girl. It was a training fight, nothing more, nothing less. Not that it was exactly necessary.

  “Come on. Come at me.” Erika smiled from ear to ear. She looked as if she couldn't think of a better place to be right now. As if she had been born for this.

  Vincent took a step forward, sizing her up. Part of him still wondered if this was worth it, with what he was risking, while Erika risked nothing at all.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked after a while. Not much time, just that her patience was conspicuously absent.

  “Nothing important.” Vincent twirled the sword in his hand. “It’s just that I’ve been thinking… If you lose, nobody expected you to win. And if you win, you’re the one who defeated the dragonslayer. Or unmasked him, depending on what people think. But I don’t gain anything. I know that refusing would also be a blow to my reputation, however… So…”

  Vincent lunged at Erika. He was like a human cannonball.

  He was afraid of losing and being exposed as a fraud, of course. He was afraid Ayame would find out he was actually a blacksmith and how she might react, of course. But that didn’t mean he was going to stop giving his all for the one thing he had dreamed of since he was perhaps six years old at most. He was here to win. To take it all.

  “Yes! Yes! That’s what I like! That’s what I like!”

  Erika shot off like a bullet so they would meet in the middle. With or without spectators, it was clear this was going to be a damn tough fight. Their weapons clashed, sending sparks flying.

  “This is going to be a blast!” Erika continued, completely unconcerned.

  Are you that eager to be the one who finished off the dragonslayer? he thought. Really, that eager? And for what? At most, the cowards would line up to beat her up.

  Anyway, what could happen doesn't matter, he thought, because it won't happen. He wasn't going to allow himself to be defeated.

  “Show me what you can do!”

  They exchanged a dozen blows in an instant. Wow, that girl was too loud.

  News had wings and walls had eyes and ears. Soon they would have an audience, of that he had no doubt. For better or for worse.

  The sword flew from his hand immediately. It fell to the ground, sticking in.

  “Pick it up,” Erika said. No, it was more like she could give him orders. “Come on, let’s go.”