Get That Blood Pumping
Disclaimer: I do not own Rosario Vampire or any part of its franchise. I would also like to thank lord of the land of fire for giving me permission to write this.
This is a sequel to The Unsealed Vampire story by lord of the land of fire and The Unsealed Vampire: Tsukune's Revenge by yours truly.
I haven't updated in a while because what happened to Kahlua got me depressed. I refuse to acknowledge her death, she is merely wounded and I stand by that conclusion.
I also ventured into another section, stories go by way too fast over there.
Now, I suppose that still isn't a valid excuse for not updating but I got nothing else. As you know, that and laziness will always slow you down.
Now that I am done wasting your time with author's notes, let us move on to the main attraction.
Enjoy:
"Again."
A with another blood curling scream, Tsukune lashed out at the wooden practice dummy with what appeared to be a whip constituted from his solidified blood that took root from a deep cut made in the palm of his left hand. In his right hand, he clutched a crimson colored gem that glowed with renewed vigor every time he struck the target. Just as the blood whip made contact with the target, the blood dissolved. The resulting effect elicited another frustrated shout on Tsukune's behalf.
As for the elder teacher, he merely stood and observed with both hands clutching his cane for support and repeated a word that he kept repeating for the better part of a week: "Again." His authoritarian tone was met only by another one of Tsukune's angry shouts as the blood from his wound stemmed out to form a whip so that Tsukune could once more strike at the intended target.
No matter how many times he tried, he could never manage to maintain a solid enough focus to actually slice the wooden dummy in half. In fact, he couldn't even touch it without losing his makeshift blood weapon in the process. What really irked him about his failure is that there didn't seem to be any evolution. Supposedly, practice made perfect as his self-proclaimed instructor would always say. If that were the case, that meant perfect was still a very long way off.
The mage made no comment. Whereas Tsukune only saw continued failure, he perceived a very slow progression. Every time he struck it, the blood stayed solid for a fraction of a second longer. It even started to make microscopic cuts into the wooden dummy. It was true that practice made perfect, but perfect took years to achieve, if not decades. Blood magic was a difficult discipline to master, the fact that he had made this much progress in just a few short weeks was nothing short of a miracle.
Then again, seeing the unique properties of his blood, it was not at all surprising to the old man. Thousands of years of blood magic manipulations, improvements and rituals coursed through him. He held the power of not one but two vampires of the Founding Generations: True Ancestors. Mixed in with his own once human blood, it had the potential to create a new vampire lineage. Of course, there were also a few other blood rituals linked to the boy that brought a grin to the old man's face. Blood mating had always been a messy affair, even before vampires had become a totally distinct species from man.
Upon seeing how hard he tried to maintain it, the elder couldn't help but reflect upon the first time they had met.
Right after Akua had left Tsukune behind in the old man's care, he had taken a small bit of Tsukune's blood to examine. He lacked the vampire's natural tendency to absorb knowledge imparted by the blood through taste so he resorted to more primitive means of study. The result showed that Tsukune was indeed everything he dreamed he could be. It was a revelation that had made him happier than he had been in several centuries. Finally there came one who had the potential to safeguard the knowledge of those who preceded him.
After the majority of the original blood mages had crossed over and become the first monsters to roam the Earth, only a select few devoted to remembrance had dedicated themselves to keeping the knowledge they had gained from vanishing from memory. Even fewer remained when monsters had completely cut ties with Humanity and chosen to leave forgotten what they once were. Although the remaining mages swore to never forget or forsake their teachings, they were still fearful of seeing their knowledge disappear with time. Very few could naturally demonstrate the aptitude to learn the arts. The majority of witches refused to approach such knowledge, claiming it was unnatural. Ironic, when you considered that it was the original branch of magic that then evolved into what was considered common magic that relied on nature.
As for trying to teach monsters, they would sooner kill you than listen to far fetched theories that claimed monsters were once human. As for humans, that wasn't even an option, they shunned what they could not understand and were quick to ignore what their precious science could not explain. In the past, such claims of the occult resulted in a most gruesome death. Now, they threw you into an asylum and destroyed the key.
Tsukune, the link between monsters and humans, held the answer. He was not the first to become a monster, true, a few had preceded him in that regard. However, he would be the first to become a vampire, the only immortal species. Imagine the possibilities: the study of blood magic was only limited by time. No matter how long a mage tried to extend his life, he would inevitably decay and die. But with a vampire who accepted the arts, there was nothingt he could not achieve. An eternity to learn and teach, an eternity to advance in the science.
What's more was that the honor of bringing the knowledge of the arts to this exceptional being was his alone. He, the last blood mage to live in all of Asia, had just been given the chance to see his knowledge become immortal. The brothers in Europe, North Africa and the Americas would be thrilled if not slightly jealous. Sure, they could have always attempted to recreate a new lineage of immortals to forever remember. Alas, the time it would take to recreate the manipulations would have been more than what they possessed. As things stood, they were on the edge of extinction. And even with all they knew, it would take thousands of years and multiple generations of test subjects to push the body to such an advanced state of development.
Tsukune then awoke startled from his future would-be blood mates conception of a small love tap. Lucky for the mage, he had already done all the analysis that was required to fully comprehend what a find the young boy was. As soon as the elder had been able to quell the child's fears concerning the Black Devil, he was confronted with a new challenge: figuring out how to prevent such a promising student from throwing himself to his death at the hands of those human fanatics.
"Where are you going?" The old man inquired, alarmed at how much in a hurry this boy was to meet what would have been his doom. This wasn't good at all, the boy could not die. Not now, not ever. He foresaw the various possible futures that Tsukune could live through thanks to his blood, and none were too kind to him if he departed for the suicidal mission now.
"There's something I need to do. Thanks for the help though, I was sure I was a goner back there." At this rate, it would have been much better to simply have left him in the eldest Shuzen sister's care. He should have anticipated the young man's zeal, it was only natural for one in his position. Yet, what if that were the answer? Even he would see death as being detrimental to his goals. So if he were to offer another solution...
"And throw yourself into the wolf's den without preparation? You lack the necessary skills to survive. Going through with this would result in nothing other than death and failure for your mission." He laid the bait, now he just had to wait for the boy to keep going just a little further into the conversation. Please let him not be a complete idiot.
"What other choice do I have? I have to go through with this. If I don't succeed, I'll have tried at least." Tsukune would have asked how he knew about his mission but let's be honest: Someone just magically appears when he's about to die? Just go with the flow and see where it takes you. The small sigh that followed felt like a Godsend to the old man. He took the bait, now he just had to reel him in nice and easy and they would be ready to carry on. The mage had to refrain himself from smiling and giggling like a mad man at the prospect of what could be done.
"What if I could offer another venue that would insure success in your endeavor? You would be better prepared to face your ex-followers and would not die in the confrontation. As a plus, you might learn a few things about your condition I am sure would interest you greatly." Despite how hard he tried to hide his excitement, a small grin formed which was quite the opposite of welcomed by the young ghoul. Apparently, it reminded him too much of Mikogami's. After smoothing over that last accident that almost cost him dearly, both beings agreed.
Tsukune would become the mage's apprentice and better prepare for the coming battle and possibly learn a few things about the ritual he was supposed to undertake. As for the elder, he would be able to teach. Ever since then, the mage had never once lied to Tsukune: He told him training would be hard, and it was. He told him it would be painful, it continued to be. He told it would bear great fruit, and it would.
Whenever there was a subject that would come up he didn't wish to discuss, he would flat out refuse to answer or would promise to answer at another time. That was the first step to getting the young prdigy to trust him: Acting like the opposite of Yokai Academy's Headmaster was a great way to get him to cooperate. When he asked about his name, the old man sighed before citing blood mage tradition. A student could never know his teacher's name if they hadn't met before the child was instructed in the arts. The reasoning behind that was that a more solid bond would emerge if the student would view his teacher as no more than a conduit for his own apprenticeship.
So Tsukune resorted to calling him old man, the elder would have preferred master but he would take what he could get. It was hard enough to get him to respect any of the traditions, so you could forget about superficial customs. It was a rebellious streak the old man suspected was born along with his encouraged disdain for authority. Captivity did have a way of lowering one's respect for those in charge.
Another cry of pain brought the old man out of his contemplation, Tsukune had lost his whip and was once again reforming his weapon of choice. He didn't even have to command him to try again, it seemed the student was so engrossed with getting this right that he didn't even pay attention to his surroundings anymore. Such dedication was both a good and bad thing. Good because it showed he cared about what he was doing. Bad because he no longer focused on what was around him. For instance, an enemy could sneak around here and he would be none the wiser. He would be dead before he even knew what hit him. But just as everything else, it would take time for him to start observing these kinds of things.
Another scream of anguish, another failed attempt. The old man sighed at this observation, he was hoping he might be able to put this off but it seemed that would no longer be an option seeing as how they were pressed for time. On the bright side, it would boost his abilities enough so that he would be satisfied. Usually, mages didn't perform this at the beginning of their training since there was a good chance the disciple might die if his powers weren't strong enough. Of course, those concerns didn't apply to Tsukune, his blood was potent enough to ensure his survival. Still, old habits died hard, especially for a centuries old mentor.
After calling for his apprentice to halt his exercises and to come speak with him, the elder sat himself down on a nearby boulder that constituted the only non-green or wooden object around. From here, he had a good view of the two wooden cabins they were using as housing surrounded by the near endless forest. And to think he was reduced to living in that after having been the wealthy owner of a mansion back during the Boxer Rebellion, truly disheartening.
He no longer paid that thought any importance as Tsukune sat himself down next to the old teacher. Upon close inspection, he saw Tsukune's self inflicted wound begin to heal itself. In a matter of seconds, it had healed completely, leaving an intact palm with no signs of ever having been injured. As for Tsukune himself, he looked perfectly fine if not a little pale, the blood loss was taking a slight toll but it was nothing he hadn't dealt with already whenever Moka would want a sip of her favorite drink. He still was in good enough shape to conduct the ritual.
The elder cleared his throat before he asked Tsukune to put the crimson crystal down on the boulder between the two. As he did so, the old man felt it would be a good time to instruct as to what purpose it served. "You are no doubt wondering why I asked you to hang on to that while you were performing blood magic back there." He gestured at the spot in front of the practice dummy.
Tsukune nodded and watched the crystal as it's dime glow faded slowly until it was as dark as the infinite void of space. "Witches, and by extension blood mages, need magically powered artifacts to use magic. Witches use wands and books among other things, we use blood crystals." He halted on account of a small chuckle that escaped Tsukune at the mention of such an unoriginal name to qualify the gems. "I know." He replied in a weary tone before continuing his explanation. "Take these away from our grasp and we're as good as done for."
That comment peaked Tsukune's interest. If that were the case, something wasn't right. He was quick to point it out to the elder. "Then how are you able to use magic? I've never seen you carrying a crystal." Tsukune's comment was met with an irritated glare originating from the mentor. Why did the boy always have to get ahead of himself?
"Patience, boy. It will all become clear soon." And with that, he pulled out a small knife and asked Tsukune to extend his right hand. Knowing what would happen, Tsukune tensed up as he did and felt the sting of the blade cutting into his flesh. He then directed his student's bloodied hand above the crystal and allowed a few drops to cover it. As the crimson life force covered the gem, the mage whispered a few commands and watched as the liquid coated crystal morphed into a red insect he immediately took in his hands.
He gestured out to Tsukune to allow the creature to hop onto his own right hand where yet another gash had vanished. Upon closer observation, the little guy looked like a crimson scarab. However, before he could elaborate anymore on his inspection of his new friend, the beast began to dig into his skin. By the time Tsukune reacted to try and pull the insect off, it had already dug through and was now visibly circulating up his arm right beneath the layers of his flesh.
Needless to say, Tsukune was freaking out at this point. He looked up to see his mentor smiling at the recent development. "Fascinating, isn't it?" He began, he was in awe at the spectacle. "A ritual created by our brothers in Egypt back during the pharaohs." As of that moment, the red scarab was still going on his merry way up Tsukune's arm and across his shoulder, he could feel the thing crawling along his muscles and bones. "As I said, we're pretty much useless without a powerful conductor. So we found a way to never lose one of those crystals."
Tsukune's eyes widen at the realization. Yet it was too ludicrous a prospect for him to consider so he still had to ask. "Where is it going?" The apprehension in his voice was growing and his doubts about his mentor's sanity were rising just as the old man's grin grew wide.
"Where all blood goes. Right to the heart." With that, a pang could be felt in his chest, he lowered his eyes until he saw the creature's form appear right on his chest as it crawled beneath his skin. The pain grew as the beast's figure shrank into his chest and dug into what Tsukune guessed was his heart. The pain made him scream in agony before it vanished just as quickly as it had begun.
"It is done, that little crystal is now inside your heart." The elder man spoke with a relieved tone, though it was fascinating to observe, it was still risky as all hell. "And before you ask, the crimson scarab has gone back to it's primary form and is now being processed by your body just as blood usually is."
How had the process not killed him? He would never know. The only thing he knew was that there was now a small crystal lodged inside his heart that would grant him the power to use blood magic. Knowing that he would be able to use magic at will now was a comparatively meager consolation when dealing with such weirdness.
He could get angry and scream at the old man for doing this but who would he be fooling? He was expecting something like this to happen down the road at some point. It was going to hurt, he accepted that and now he had to move on after it inevitably happened. The silver lining in all of this was that he was still alive. And from the looks, or more accurately feel, of it, he would be able to use more magic than before. Something to do with the power sources proximity to the blood, he supposed. A win-win, sort of.
And this looked to be one of the best chances he would get to ask the old man for a bit more information on some things, namely the details to the ritual he promised to divulge to our favorite blood mage in training. As far as he was concerned, it was about time he found out what exactly was supposed to happen to him on that fateful day.
"You said you would tell me about the transformation ritual if I agreed to train. Now seems like a good time to talk about it." The old man gave him a quizzical look that was asking him if he was sure that he wanted to find out now. Tsukune nodded his head and waited for the old man to start talking. Said mage looked up to the trees around him for a moment to think of where he should start.
After a shrug, he figured he might as well start with the basics. He lowered his head and asked Tsukune the following question. " Tell me, boy. What do you know about ghouls? I mean sure, you are one, and you pretty much understand that a ghoul is a carnage hungry animal born from vampire blood. What I'm asking is why is a ghoul created from that mixture?"
Tsukune thought about it for a moment but found no answer to the old man's query. So he shook his head left and right to signal he didn't have the foggiest idea and waited for the old man to continue. "Think of a ghoul, not as a defined being, but as a transition. A ghoul is the result of an infection." He paused for a moment to let the kid ask any questions he might have. None came so he pressed on with his tale. "Vampire blood is fundamentally incompatible with just about any other creature's anatomy. Same goes for other monster's hemoglobin and flesh but this is truly a special case. You see, vampire blood is so potent with power that very few organisms if any, apart from other vampire's or dampire's physiology, can survive its effects, it will try and break down whatever it considers as foreign: the embodiment of vampire pride at the molecular level." He paused in order to give time for Tsukune to chuckle at the mental picture he had just drawn up of millions of miniature Inner Mokas rushing through his system and kicking anything in their way. Boy did he miss her.
"However, the body does have a way to counter what would have been a tranquil transition: it evolves until it can somewhat sustain the effects. And that's where the real headache starts." Tsukune paled at the thought of having his body disintegrate, there had to be better ways to go than that. Well, less painful ways, that is. "The result is the creation of a sub-vampire species, a ghoul, driven by a mad lust for blood and carnage. All because there was one little part of your body that just had to try and adapt instead of succumbing."
Taukune was having a hard time following this explanation, it was going back and forth and "Alright, then how do I go from being a ghoul to being a vampire?"
"In order to complete the transformation, they will have to remove what has kept the blood from completely synchronizing with your body. Remove the obstruction so that the blood could have it's way. Namely, your flesh. In essence, you're going to be skinned alive. Once that is done, you're blood will have no trouble reforming the body into what it intends. And miracle of miracles, you'll be a vampire. Simple, eh?"
Tsukune's mouth was agape at what they had told him. They were going to skin him alive? What kind of sick twisted madman thought that up? Forget that, he didn't want to go through something like this. How could you expect him to go for something like that? No, now way. Not gonna happen. Not in this lifetime. Never.
Tsukune's internal consensus was met with one slight little obstacle: Wait, if he did that, he could be with Moka, forever! A little pain for a lot of gain, right? It's not like this was going to matter in a few decades anyhow. Decades? Hell, he would forget all about it within a few weeks. It's not like he hasn't gone through worse already. Who cared about a little skin when faced with such a beautiful future?
A little skin may be slightly underestimating the severity of the ritual: They were going to skin him. Every... little... part... of... him... Right... That included, gulp, the private bits. This wasn't fair, this just wasn't fair. Why couldn't it have been something like an epic quest where he did a little soul searching and be done with it.
No, that would have been way too easy. Of course he had to suffer, it would be ay fun if he didn't. No pain, no gain. Sure. And this is precisely why he believed Fate was a conscious entity and that she was delighting herself in messing with his head until he freakin' cracked. No, scratch that, he already cracked. Fate was beating a dead horse into the ground. A dead horse that was little more than bones at this point.
Why did Fate hate him? Why did she delight herself in doing this to him? He could almost hear the laughter echo throughout the stars. This was absolute insanity, this was completely stupid, this was...
"Messed up as all hell? Tell me about it, boy scout." Not him, not now. Not after things had been so peaceful and quiet for such a long time. Why?
"I reckon it's hilarious though. You're going to get your best friends sliced off to be with the girl you love. Bet ya twenty to one they won't grow back." Laughter followed. "How's it hanging, eunuch? I always knew Moka was the one with the pants in this relationship. Now, it's gonna be literal."
"And for the love of all that is decent. Would you eat a little more? As it goes, you're nothing but skin and bones. Sorry, I forgot about the skin part. Ha ha! Wait, hold the phone. We'll finally find out if you've got a backbone! How exciting!"
And the teasing went on, and on, and on, and on. Tsukune hated his life, he really, really did.