The wind knocked clean out of Nero, and an ache bloomed in his chest. Nero was sent flying back till his back slammed against the tight ropes around the ring, stopping his momentum.
But there's no time to recover. Through the haze of the pain, Nero saw Marco advancing toward him again. The bad feeling he had gotten earlier intensified, and he saw the look in Marco's eyes that was all too familiar.
The predator gleam that spoke of hunger, and his lips stretched into a devilish grin and Nero understood.
This isn't training for Marco. Right from the beginning, Nero was his prey.
Nero stumbled out of the way, properly facing his opponent this time. A few students had stopped sparring and were watching the match in the ring, and Nero squinted his eyes at Marco.
Then, Marco's fingers began to twitch, and Nero felt something sudden, constricting pressure wrapping around his limbs, his torso, anchoring him to the spot as if he were bound by steel.
Nero looked up at Marco again, comprehending what was going on.
Marco must be a puppeteer. And somehow, even though the invisible, impossibly strong strings had him unable to move, he could still see them.
Or at least...he could see a sparkling blue colour of strings around him.
"Nowhere to run now," Marco grinned again, and he went into a full sprint, covering the distance between him and Nero. The insane look was still in his eyes, but Marco had no idea.
That Nero is dying to injure him, to kill him more than he knows.
As Nero stared at the approaching figure, his tongue darted out, and he licked his lips.
Marco would be his first prey, for sure.
A cold fury began simmering within Nero, eclipsing the pain, and a savage instinct took hold of Nero completely. He strained his muscles against the hold of the strings and just knew he could break free.
A plan, brutal and immediate, flashed through his mind. Nero was going to feign struggle and lure Marco very close. He was going to use that pride and overconfidence against his opponent.
The anticipation grew in Marco's eyes, watching his opponent twitch here and there, trying to break free. And then, he was close enough.
The pretence vanished, and Nero looked up at his opponent once again, his eyes charged with animalistic intent.
Marco's eyes widened, immediately realising he had fallen into a trap, and he was the one being hunted all along. With a swift intake of breath, Nero lurched toward his opponent, the strings snapping into nothing as he moved, arms outstretched to grab his opponent and make him suffer.
Make him bleed.
The world narrowed to the space between Nero's arm and Marco's throat. This time, Nero was the one with a devilish look in his eyes.
Suddenly, A powerful force slams into both of them, knocking the boys away from each other, "That's enough!" Professor Haze's sharp and commanding voice cut through Nero's red haze.
Nero stumbled back a little, a furious look in his eyes. Haze stares between both boys, a look of disapproval in his expression, "You're supposed to train, not tear each other apart!"
The cold slowly seeped back, but the hunger remained. Nero's sharp gaze fell on his prey, who was still stunned by the raw violence he had just witnessed and was almost becoming a victim of.
He couldn't believe the first-year kid who didn't have a drop of presence could possess such frightening movements and such... engulfing cold.
And yet...
Without a word, Nero climbed down the ring and moved to one empty corner of the room. His hunger was seeping out and getting out of his control, and he didn't want to look suspicious.
The Veins in his neck bulged, strained against his skin, and Nero gripped the wall for support.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
It was everywhere. He was about to see red again. This time, he might not be able to control it like he's been doing.
"Shadow Heir, Your Strength Grows"
"Shadow Heir, Your Hunger for Blood grows, too."
"You must provide blood within the next two days!"
Goddamn! The week wasn't even over, and he was already spinning out of control.
Nero groaned, gripping the wall even harder. If this continues, he was definitely gonna draw attention to himself.
He had to go for his last resort.
Using his nails, he sent a quick, focused hit that pierced the skin on the back of his fists. A sudden warmth spreads through his hand as the large vein is breached.
The blood began to flow down his hands, dripping on the floor. He pressed the vein even more, tearing it even more open as the blood began to flow quickly and more freely to the ground, each drop disappearing as it touched the floor while some vanished halfway to the floor.
Slowly, the hunger began to lessen. As more blood flowed, little by little, the heaviness of his breath calmed, and he leaned his forehead against the wall and pulled out his nail, catching the dripping blood on his palm instead.
An external sensation ran through him as someone touched him from behind. Nero had sensed Rowan approaching him, but he was afraid to turn around and suddenly pounce on him since he wasn't yet confident he could hold himself.
"Are you alright?" Rowan asked.
Nero nodded tightly, "Go back to your Spar session. I'm good,"
"You're bleeding!"
"It's nothing. I'm fine," Nero quickly covered the vein with his palm entirely before Rowan saw it disappear.
Then, he turned around and faced him, "Are you done?"
Rowan had severe cuts on his arms and legs, and an eye appeared to have been punched, "He's a beast, I'm telling you,"
"The mowhalk kid?" Nero asked.
"He turned his whole arm into a blade, and his moves are quick and unpredictable,"
Nero's eyes wandered around the blood from Rowan's cuts, and he quickly tore his eyes away, "Glad you survived,"
"I saw a bit of your fight with Marco. He's a maniac, that's what all the second years are saying,"
Nero glanced around the hall again and found Marco standing alone by the end. He still had that predatory look in his eyes, staring around the hall as if he were searching for his next opponent.
Then, his eyes found Nero's own.
"Tonight, he's gonna meet an even bigger maniac," Nero murmured under his breath.