Chapter 7: The Christening 

Another carriage rolled through the same landscape, leading to the school grounds. Inside, Isabella, Selene, and Marcus observed the surroundings with far less interest than the children had. 

Once they stopped at a crossroad, Marcus noticed two young men, clad in armor, engaged in the practice of magic against a peculiar creature known as a slime. Marcus’ eyes widened in surprise as one of the men struck the slime with a weak lighting strike. 

Isabella, familiar with the scene of monsters and magic, focused on Marcus instead. She noted the subtle changes in his appearance. Not long ago, he looked like a drug addict with low weight and clammy skin. Now, he seemed to be on the path to recovery, his face regaining some color.

Selene also wondered about him. Most men would have lost their minds months ago, but he was holding on strong. How? Even if he survived the side effects of charm, why hadn’t she thrown him to the field like she had done with the others?

Is it because of Grey? Am I worried about how he perceives me?

Selene giggled, considering the thought innocent. 

But when was the last time I enjoyed such an innocent thought?

Marcus distracted Selene, as he constantly gazed out of the carriage window. 

Sensing his restlessness, Selene playfully remarked, “Nervous about your son’s first day of school?”

Marcus made an attempt at laughter, but the inauthentic sound only created more unease in the carriage. Even the centaur cast a curious glance back at the group. 

Selene grunted, “I promise. The servants usually come back with a few scratches. Nothing more.” 

Isabella joined in with reassurances.

After a prolonged silence, Marcus broached a sensitive topic, expressing his concerns about Grey. “You all seem to trust my son.” 

“Of course,” Selene asserted. 

Resting one hand on his cheek, Marcus asked, “When does the initiation begin?”

Isabella checked her watch and declared, “It should already be underway.” 

“Can we go any faster?”


Trinity found herself in a classroom laboratory, surrounded by students donned in lab jackets. The teacher walked around, observing those engaged in alchemic experiments boiling over Bunsen burners. 

The unfamiliarity of the class left Trinity bewildered, especially as her attention wavered. Her eyes were glued to the classroom windows, hoping for a glimpse of Grey. Unfortunately, the shack wasn’t visible from where she stood.

As students stole glances at her, Oliver leaned in to whisper, “He must be some servant.” 

Trinity’s face flushed while she attempted to conceal her true feelings for Grey. “He’s been by my side the most during my sickness.” She nodded and pumped her fist, sure that her words wouldn’t cause any harm for Grey.

Briana chimed in, “But how does your brother feel about him?” 

Those words shifted Trinity’s demeanor. She narrowed her eyes, displaying a dark side that few had discovered. “Do you know Christian?” 

Trinity’s scary expression caused Briana to backpedal and nervously chuckle, “Everyone knows the Ward family.” Sensing no ease in the rising pressure emanating from Trinity, Briana tried to change the topic. “The servants are probably done with the initiation already. So that boy will be fine from here on.”


Oliver and Briana exchanged uneasy glances. Briana tried to deflect the question, but Trinity, driven by curiosity, dashed to the window. When her eyes met the scene unfolding outside, Trinity covered her mouth and gasped.


As Grey strolled toward the shack, an invisible alarm sent a jolt down his spine. The watchful eyes of several slaves were fixed upon him, creating an uncomfortable atmosphere. This invisible aura reminded Grey of some dangerous experiences on Earth.

His suspicions were confirmed when he noticed Diego and Frankie among the onlookers. Grey stopped walking and began to analyze the unfolding scenario. 

When did Christian start using servants? And wouldn’t he prefer adults to fodder? 

Surveying the surroundings, Grey noted the school on his right and a park-like forest on his left. At least fourteen slaves were scattered throughout the field, and they appeared to be in their teens, except for Briana’s servant. Some slaves wore simple tan cloths, while others were adorned in suits similar to Grey’s.

After noticing Grey’s hesitancy, Diego hurried into the shack and emerged with a teenage boy whose athletic build suggested a background in track and field. The tall teenager removed his worn jacket, revealing a canvas of scars on his arms.

This was Julian, a seasoned servant and fodder who was a member of the Castleman household.

Releasing a sigh, Julian made the unwelcome announcement, “Unfortunately, we have a new servant. I think your name is Grey, right?” 

Grey nodded in acknowledgment. 

Julian, with an air of resignation, continued, “You probably know this, but every fodder on Vale is an ex-gang member. This is our hell. This is our prison. And thanks to some idiot who couldn’t let go of rituals, just like on Earth, we have initiation—”

Without waiting for Julian to finish, Grey bolted toward the forest, instinctively grabbing a rock as soon as he was out of sight. 

Julian groaned, “I hate runners. Let’s get him!”

As Grey sprinted, memories flooded his mind, causing a forgotten anxiety to resurface. Grey thought back to his first gang initiation, which happened not long after his bike was taken. “Jumping in” gang members involved one person fighting multiple people at once. 

Similar to the episode with his bike, Grey succumbed to a blackout, causing harm to numerous individuals before sustaining injuries himself. Although he possessed a method to rein in his berserker tendencies, it would be ineffective against the numerous slaves who were trailing him.

Grey couldn’t believe his luck. If he blacked out again, it would cause Trinity trouble. So, he hoped to get as far away from the school as possible. 


The carriage jolted to a stop, and Marcus impatiently thrust the doors open before the centaur could execute his duty. Isabella called out, “The shack is back there, but please slow down.”

Ignoring Isabella’s plea, Marcus sprinted toward the shack. He thought of how his body had weakened on Vale and silently cursed Selene for it. 

Isabella, gracefully holding her dress, ran alongside Marcus, puzzled by the unprecedented disobedience displayed by a slave in the presence of his mistress. But that initial disgust transformed into shock as she witnessed the distressing scene that awaited them.

The field was scattered with several young slaves, each lying injured and battered. The aftermath of what appeared to be a violent incident left Isabella questioning the circumstances that led to such chaos.

Shouts echoed from the forest, so Marcus turned in this direction. 

Students began streaming out of the school, clad in lab coats. Trinity was at the front of the pack, chasing Marcus, but her body was even weaker than his. She coughed blood in her hand and immediately wiped it away, hoping no one would notice. 

Those with servants in the field paused to assess the condition of their injured slaves.

Amid the commotion, Marcus passed Julian, who clutched a busted knee. The teenager was crying and groaning, blood streaming from above his eyebrow. 

As Marcus observed Julian’s state, Isabella dashed past him and launched herself into the air, tackling Grey just as he attempted to bring down a sizable rock on Diego’s head.

Diego watched, bewildered by the attack that could have left him worse than the others. 

Rolling on the ground with Grey ensnared in her arms, Isabella held him tightly. 

Diego took the entire scene in. Injured slaves were strewn across the field, students were aiding their servants, and Isabella restrained the demon, Grey, who appeared more terrifying than anything he had ever seen. 

“Grey!” Isabella shouted, struggling to maintain her grip on the thrashing young man. “Calm down.”

“He can’t hear you,” Marcus asserted, his expression troubled. 

“Has he done this before?” Isabella inquired urgently.

“A lot,” Marcus admitted with a heavy sigh. “It’s the way he’s fought since he was a toddler.” 

“Is this your fault? Is this why he hates you?”

Marcus avoided eye contact with Isabella. He considered how easily Grey’s mind went blank, striking until he exhausted all his strength. When he was younger, that rampage only lasted a minute or two. After his endurance increased, Grey could carry on for much longer. 

There was only one case in which Grey could fight without going berserk. If he pitied his opponent or lacked fear in his fight, the boy was fine. But in cases where he was grossly outnumbered, there was no chance. 

Once, when Grey was a young boy, he deemed Marcus unworthy of that berserker state. 

Trinity and a group of students finally caught up to Marcus. She covered her mouth, her eyes wide with shock. Grey continued fighting against Isabella’s firm grip, tears streaming down his face, yet an evil smile on his lips. 

What had he experienced to wear such an expression?

Before long, the school’s headmaster appeared—a diminutive and wrinkled old man adorned with gray hair and a traditional wizard’s hat. Selene joined the scene shortly after.

After discovering that Grey belonged to Selene, the headmaster shared a firm snarl. Selene took in the scenery for a moment, assessing the punishment required for such actions. 

With heavy steps, Selene approached Briana and whispered, “Please ask Christian to join us.” 

Without hesitation, Briana giddily ran back toward the school. 

Carla the vampire elf running through the forest


Grey’s senses snapped back into sharp focus as a violent calm settled over the forest. The air itself seemed thin, enhancing the sound of every rustling leaf and creaking branch. 

Christian’s silhouette emerged from the darkness, sleeves methodically rolled. A dozen students held flame magic in their hands, casting intermittent shadows that swayed with the wind.

Grey, no longer sobbing but instead caught in a silent tremor, felt a wave of chilling realization washing over him. Christian’s gaze stalked him with the predatory precision of a hunter closing in on its prey. 

The young master’s hands, steady and unwavering, expertly tied Grey’s wrists before he threw the rope over a sturdy branch. That rope bit into Grey’s flesh, a visceral reminder of his vulnerability. 

Why did I run back toward the school? Why didn’t I stay in the forest?

Climbing trees. 

Sprinting around obstacles. 

Grabbing stones mid-stride.

Grey had seen himself do these things, but he couldn’t control his actions. These were the drills that had become the rhythm of his existence. 

Grey was thrown into countless dangers on Earth, and he had lost many battles because he fought in a berserk state. He was even shot in the back, just below his shoulder, a searing pain that he could never forget. 

These experiences led Grey to practice his actions so he could make wiser decisions, but leaving injured servants in the schoolyard was idiotic. It was his greatest mistake so far. 

But Christian didn’t mind. He relished the opportunity. 

Christian stripped away Grey’s shirt with one swift motion. A twisted satisfaction gleamed in the young master’s eyes, carefully concealed beneath an icy composure. Then, he turned to the headmaster. 

The old wizard passed him a whip. A flame surrounded Christian’s body before he injected that energy into the weapon. Soon, the whip crackled with an electric charge.

As the enchanted whip sliced through the air, Christian unleashed a barrage of merciless blows upon Grey’s defenseless form. Each strike echoed with a sickening crack, the air pulsating with the acrid scent of seared flesh. 

Selene had sent Trinity away with Marcus, long before Christian arrived. If Trinity hadn’t argued to stay, she may have missed the haunting screech of Grey’s cries. But the piercing sound reached the carriage, triggering a scream from Trinity. The centaur, understanding her sorrow, sprinted away from the school, startling onlookers.

With each lash, Christian intensified the brutality, the crack of the enchanted whip merging with Grey’s anguished yelps. The servants thought Grey’s punches were abnormally strong for his size, but the limits of his frail body were made obvious with each howl. 

In “only” twelve lashes, Grey was dead. Both students and victims of Grey’s assault were disappointed to see how long he lasted. 

Christian threw the whip to the ground and sat beside Grey, wiping his brow. He steadied his breath and proceeded to take his time casting the recovery spell. 

The young master wanted Selene to suffer, but he never bothered to look at her expression. He could sense her pain and that was enough.

As the moments stretched, Selene fought against the urge to intervene, wary of the repercussions she would face. But it would have been kinder to leave Grey as he was, dead. 

Christian’s hand produced a green enchantment circle and Grey’s body began to thrash. His shriek combed the air, drawing laughter from some onlookers before they returned to the school grounds.

Grey had quickly learned that revivals were far worse than death itself. His muscles burned and his bones snapped in and out of place. Worst of all, his brain felt as though claws were tugging at it from both ends. 

And all at once the pain stopped, though, Grey’s tears remained.

The headmaster, a stern figure hardened by the cruelties of the world, issued a cautionary warning to Selene before departing with the other spectators. “Learn to discipline your slaves.”

Alone with the aftermath, Christian leaned close to Grey, his whispered words carrying the venom of triumph. “Resurrection magic performed by vampires is infused with dark mana. And the cost is the human’s life essence, meaning you just aged about six months in mere seconds. Did you study that too?”


The carriage ambled back toward the plantation, an oppressive silence filling the confined space. Selene, Isabella, and Grey shared the discomfort, a stark contrast to their usual dynamic. 

Selene couldn’t help but notice a profound transformation in Grey’s demeanor. The once luminescent sparkle in his eyes were mundane and lifeless, making her realize how many of her slaves wore similar expressions. 

Despite the situation, Grey maintained his usual professionalism with a strict posture. He showed deliberate effort to avoid staining the carriage’s upholstery with the dried blood that adorned his back.

The weight of the day was transferred to everyone in the house, including the servants. The hallways were void of the exchanged smiles that Grey brought and the creaks of the wooden floor sounded louder.

Trinity was the most distraught. Tears, solitary and heavy, streaked down her face as she grappled with the unfolding events. The sun had risen, and the absence of Grey’s reassuring presence weighed on her heart.

She only wanted to see a glimpse of her best friend, in hopes that it would stop her tears. 

Maybe he’s in the field?

Because Trinity was more closely related to an elf than a vampire, she felt more comfortable in the sun than even daywalkers. She opened the blinds and scanned the expansive field for over an hour. It wasn’t until Grey emerged from the forest that her heart felt at ease. However, the disappointment etched on his features was a stark departure from the usually resilient friend that Trinity knew.

In silence, Grey retreated to his side of the room, a heavy cloud of discontent hanging over him. Trinity yearned for him to lash out or share tears. Instead, Grey slipped into the embrace of sleep without uttering a single word, and he was out of bed before sunset. 

For the first time in a long time, Isabella informed Trinity about breakfast. Fortunately, Grey met Trinity at the carriage with a bow before opening the door. 

She wanted to apologize and let Grey know that he didn’t have to work at that school ever again, but a cascade of coughs interrupted her speech. Between coughs, Trinity noticed Christian already sitting inside the carriage. 

Faithfully, Grey passed Trinity a handkerchief and rubbed her back. She used the cloth and stained it with blood, causing Christian’s smirk to widen. Grey tensed as he noticed Christian’s demonic expression from the corner of his eyes. 

Grey helped Trinity into the carriage. During the ride, Trinity popped several mana control pills. 

Didn’t the doctors say he was weaning her off of those?


In the hallowed halls of the vampire school, Grey followed Trinity, seemingly in a lackluster state. The students began to marvel at the shattered look in his eyes. One claimed, “It’s funny how every violent slave becomes obedient after a single resurrection.” 

Grey ignored them, but the subdued atmosphere drew the attention of Briana’s servant. Casting a keen eye toward the pair, she observed Grey’s demeanor and a subtle smirk appeared on her lips.

They’re wrong. He hasn’t given up. Of all the slaves, that boy will probably be the only one to escape.

After the students entered their classes, Briana’s slave silently approached Grey. He heard her voice before he felt her presence, and the sensation nearly caused Grey to jump out of the window. 

The young woman, uncomfortably close to Grey’s ear, whispered, “You can do it. Woo!” 

Grey hadn’t known who said the words until he spun around, but he made sure to remember that heavenly sound. It was seductively dry, dull but enthralling. And that voice held a mysterious accent—one that didn’t belong to anyone from Earth. 

Please Login to Comment.