Kiss of the vampire
" The Girl.with The Sharp Sword"
Mission 38 : Adopt and Survive!
The whir of the helicopter blades gave way to the low rumble of city traffic as they touched down near Manila. The night air was thick with humidity, neon lights flickering across the skyline as if nothing beyond the ordinary was happening. Yet the moment Deyviel stepped out behind Ben, bag slung over his shoulder, he felt the shift in atmosphere—this wasn't just another mission.
Ben led him through the airport like he'd done it a hundred times before, shades on even though it was dark, a passport in hand. No uniforms, no insignias—just two men passing as tourists.
Deyviel frowned at the document Ben shoved into his hands. "Tourist visa? Really?"
Ben smirked without humor. "Our alibi. To the world, we're just two idiots on vacation, planning to hike the Cordilleras. That's what customs will see. What we're really after… well, that's for later."
They passed through security without issue, their gear stripped down to bare essentials—no weapons visible, only what could pass for camping tools. Deyviel tugged his cap lower over his eyes, muttering, "This is ridiculous. You could've at least told me where we're going."
"I did," Ben replied, boarding the sleek private jet waiting for them. He didn't look back. "We're going to hike."
Deyviel rolled his eyes and followed. Inside, the jet was quiet, almost too quiet. Only two seats were occupied: theirs. No attendants. No flight crew in sight except a pilot behind the locked cockpit door.
As the plane began to taxi, Ben finally leaned back, arms crossed. "Listen up, brat. Where we're heading, no government knows about it. No maps, no records. An old ruin buried so deep in the mountains it doesn't exist to the outside world."
Deyviel tilted his head, narrowing his eyes. "…And what the hell's in those ruins?"
Ben's gaze flickered, his expression unusually serious. "Answers. And maybe… your truth."
That made Deyviel stiffen. "…My truth?"
Ben didn't elaborate. He simply closed his eyes as the jet lifted off into the clouds, his words hanging heavy in the cabin. "Sleep while you can, kid. When we land, we hike. And when we hike, the real shit begins."
Deyviel leaned back, but sleep didn't come easy. His forearm burned faintly under the fabric of his sleeve—the mark pulsing like it already knew what waited for them.
The hangar bay was alive with noise when Denver was called in. The Black Knights were already assembled, gear strapped, rifles checked, blades gleaming under the harsh fluorescent lights. Kliev stood at the front, his posture sharp as ever, briefing the squad.
"Target: Paris. Our intel confirms vampire forces regrouping near the catacombs. High density. High risk. And according to reports, they've dragged civilians down there for blood stockpiles. This isn't just another raid—it's a rescue mission."
Denver tightened the strap on his chest plate, his mind still half on his last conversation with Deyviel. He could still see his brother-in-arms's face, that forced grin masking something darker. "I don't have a choice… just go with the flow for now."
He hated it. Hated that Deyviel was leaving with that freak Rayleigh without even a straight answer.
"Oi, Denver," Mizuno's voice broke him out of the thought. The man was pale but standing, bandages peeking from under his uniform. "You good? You've been spacing out since roll call."
"Yeah." Denver clipped his helmet in place, eyes set forward. "Just… thinking."
Sophia, adjusting the glowing runes on her sword, gave him a knowing look. "About Deyviel, isn't it?"
Denver's jaw tightened, but he didn't deny it.
Kliev's voice cut the chatter. "Focus. Whatever Rayleigh's got him doing isn't our concern right now. Our job is clear: save the hostages, cut down their forces, and pull out clean."
The hangar doors began to open, cold night air rushing in. Beyond it, the transport jet waited, its engines already roaring.
As the squad moved out, Denver glanced back once, muttering under his breath.
"Wherever you are, brother… don't do anything stupid."
The jet swallowed their squad whole, the ramp closing shut as they lifted off toward Paris—straight into the belly of a nest waiting in shadows.
The jet swayed gently through the clouds, the low hum of its engines filling the cabin.
Deyviel wiped the sweat from his brow, chest heaving after Ben's sudden gut-punch. His knuckles still faintly glowed, the shimmer of ki flickering like a dying candle.
"You're insane," he muttered, glancing around the cabin. "What if I punch a hole through this thing? We're thousands of feet in the air!"
Ben snorted, rolling his shoulders. "This isn't your usual commercial tin can, kid. This bird's military-grade. Reinforced for combat transport. It can take a small-scale fight inside without so much as a dent."
Deyviel blinked. "Wait—you mean this plane is… built for people like us?"
"Exactly." Ben cracked his neck, eyes gleaming. "So no excuses."
Before Deyviel could protest, Ben lunged. His fist whistled past Deyviel's ear, forcing him to duck. Instinct flared and his right hand glowed again—hotter this time. He swung back, a sloppy but desperate punch.
Ben blocked with a flick of his wrist, the impact rattling through the cabin. "Better. But you're bleeding energy like a cracked barrel."
Deyviel gritted his teeth, trying again. He pushed his ki into his legs, darting forward with surprising speed. His fist caught Ben's side, making the older man grunt.
A grin broke across Ben's face. "Now we're cooking."
He shoved Deyviel back, forcing him into defense. Blow after blow came—measured, precise, merciless. Deyviel stumbled, blocked, swung back, each motion clumsy but slowly sharpening. Sparks of ki began to flash at every impact, lighting the cabin in brief bursts.
"Control it!" Ben barked, slamming his knee into Deyviel's gut. "Don't just let it explode out!"
"Easy for you to say!" Deyviel spat, ki bursting from his arm in an uncontrolled flare. The air rippled, a tray table rattling violently nearby.
Ben pressed harder. Every strike was like being hit by iron. But Deyviel wasn't backing down. His body screamed, his lungs burned—but that ember inside his core roared hotter with every exchange.
Finally, Ben broke away, raising a hand. "Stop."
Deyviel staggered, clutching his ribs, sweat dripping from his chin. The glow around his arms flickered, then dimmed.
"Not bad." Ben's tone softened, just slightly. "You're starting to feel it. The flow. That's step one."
Deyviel coughed, his voice hoarse. "…Step one? That felt like hell already."
Ben chuckled. "Hell is step ten. Step one is just learning to breathe with it." He gestured to the floor. "Sit. Now."
Still panting, Deyviel lowered himself, crossing his legs.
"Close your eyes," Ben instructed. "Pull your ki back in. Control the flame. Make it still."
Deyviel shut his eyes, trembling. At first, all he felt was exhaustion. But slowly, the ember inside steadied. It no longer spilled wildly into his limbs—it pulsed in rhythm with his heartbeat, contained.
A calm he hadn't felt in ages washed over him.
"…I think I get it," he murmured.
Ben's gaze sharpened, though he gave the faintest nod. "Good. Remember this. Control first, power second. Lose control, and the enemy won't need to kill you—your own ki will."
Deyviel's brow furrowed, unease settling in his gut. "…And what happens if I do lose it?"
Ben didn't hesitate. "Then I'll kill you myself."
The hum of the engines filled the silence again as the weight of his words sank deep into Deyviel's bones.
The cabin hummed faintly with the drone of the engines, a low vibration underfoot. Ben raised his hand casually, but his eyes sharpened.
"Let's test it properly," he said, and before Deyviel could brace, the air warped.
Time bent. A ripple like heat shimmer cut through the aisle, slamming into Deyviel's chest.
The impact staggered him, but only for a blink. His body shook it off as though it were a shove, not a time fracture meant to age flesh, erode will, and crush reaction.
Ben's eyes narrowed. Without pause, he flicked his wrist again. Another strike. Another ripple. This time, the plane's reinforced cabin rang faintly from the distortion.
Deyviel grunted, bracing, yet again the blow dispersed across his skin, across his very being, like waves breaking against an unyielding cliff.
"Not possible…" Ben muttered. His jaw tightened. He sent a third, stronger pulse—this one enough to rot steel in seconds.
Deyviel caught it head-on. His teeth gritted, but he remained standing, sweat glistening on his brow, chest heaving.
Ben lowered his hand, watching with something that wasn't surprise anymore but grim recognition.
"You've already awakened it," he said quietly.
"What?" Deyviel panted, wiping sweat from his cheek. "Awakened what explain more pls?"
Ben leaned back in his seat, the hum of the private jet filling the silence between them. Deyviel stared, waiting, fists tight on his knees.
"Fine," Ben finally muttered, rubbing his temples. "You want to know what you've got? I'll spell it out, but listen carefully."
He raised one finger.
"Adopt. When you're struck, your body remembers. It reshapes itself, adapts, grows resistant to that damage. Fire burns you once, and the next time you'll shrug it off. But it's passive—defensive only. You can't throw fire back. You just won't die to it again."
He lifted a second finger.
"Survive. That one's nastier. If you're hit and you live through it, your body doesn't just endure—it fights back. It awakens a temporary countermeasure to whatever tried to kill you. Fire? You manifest water. Poison? You sprout resistance on the spot. It's instinctual—if your body senses you're about to die, it'll react before your brain does. The catch? You can only hold onto a limited number of these counters. Seven is the max… but in this loop, you're capped at two."
Deyviel blinked. "Two? That's it?"
"You're still green," Ben said flatly. "Your capacity grows with experience. Think of it as slots in your soul. Right now you've only got two shelves on the damn rack."
Deyviel swallowed, excitement and dread tangling in his chest. "…And if I have both? Adopt and Survive?"
Ben's voice dropped lower.
"That's when you reach the last step. Bypass All."
The cabin seemed to grow colder at the words.
"Bypass All ignores the rules. Doesn't matter if it's physics, magic, divine law, or some Outer God's curse. You'd walk right through it like it's smoke. And when mastered, you don't just ignore rules—you can set them. Strip an enemy of their power entirely, or twist their ability until it eats them alive."
Deyviel's heart thundered. "That's… insane. That means I could—"
"—End wars. Kill gods. Rewrite fate." Ben cut him off, eyes sharp. "Which is exactly why they fear you. But don't get ahead of yourself, brat. It's not free. To reach it, you'll need to master both Adopt and Survive—and then sacrifice."
"Sacrifice?"
"Your soul weapon. Your King's Authority. The two things that should've defined your peak will instead become the fuel for your last form. That's the price."
Silence fell. Deyviel sat there frozen, pulse racing, the words rewrite fate burning in his ears. The idea of paying such a cost gnawed at him—but the fire in his chest roared louder.
Ben leaned forward, his tone dark. "So choose carefully, kid. Power like that doesn't come without a noose. And the tighter you pull on it, the closer the Outer Gods will watch."
Deyviel's brow furrowed, memory sparking. "Wait… back at Elisia's mansion—when Lancer's dogs came crashing in. One of those nobles—he threw something at me. His blood… it blew up like a damn grenade." He paused, eyes narrowing. "But… it didn't work. I was fine. Not a scratch."
Ben's gaze locked on him, sharp as a blade. "Exactly. That's your Adopt."
Deyviel blinked. "…What?"
Ben leaned forward, his tone hard but deliberate. "That noble's 'bomb blood' hit you once. It should've shredded you—turned your flesh inside out. But the moment it connected, your body remembered. It rewrote itself. The damage was burned into your cells, and then erased. By the time he tried it again—"
"—It didn't do jack," Deyviel muttered, finishing the thought.
"Right." Ben tapped the armrest with his finger, every word sharp. "That's the rule of Adopt. First hit hurts. Every hit after? Worthless. You don't even notice it anymore."
Deyviel swallowed, realization settling heavy in his chest. "So that's why… I didn't even question it. I thought maybe he was just weak, or missed his timing."
Ben snorted. "That's what makes you dangerous, brat. You adapt without even knowing it. Which means the longer you fight someone, the less they can do to you. You're built to turn monsters into gnats."
Deyviel's hands clenched against his knees, trembling—not with fear this time, but with an almost electric rush of excitement. So it wasn't a fluke. It wasn't luck.
Ben's eyes, however, stayed grim. "But don't get cocky. Adopt only shields you. It doesn't give you a weapon. Survive is what turns the tables. And until you learn to balance the two, you'll just be a shield waiting to crack."
Deyviel exhaled sharply, heart racing. "…Then I'll learn. Whatever it takes."
Ben studied him for a long moment, then gave the faintest smirk—though there was no warmth in it. Only the sharpness of a blade being sharpened.
Ben leaned back against his seat, his arms folding as his eyes narrowed. "Thing is, brat—you think you've only lived through this loop. But I've seen you in the others. Loops you don't even remember."
Deyviel frowned. "Others…? What are you talking about? I only—"
Ben cut him off, voice like steel. "There was one where you didn't have Adopt at all. No immunity. Every damn hit you took should've killed you. But you kept getting back up."
Deyviel's chest tightened. "What do you mean…?"
Ben's stare hardened. "Survive. That loop was yours. And it was the ugliest one yet."
For a moment, the jet felt smaller. Deyviel could almost hear the echoes of screams he couldn't recall.
Ben's tone dropped lower, heavy as a verdict. "You'd take a hit, and your body—your damn soul—would twist something awake just to keep you alive. Vampire's blood strike? Your veins would flare with light, like they were burning it out of you. Firestorm? You spat back water like a broken hydrant. Every time you were about to die, your body cheated death with a counter that shouldn't exist."
Deyviel's breath hitched. He couldn't picture it, yet his skin crawled like he remembered without remembering.
"And worse," Ben added, eyes narrowing, "it stuck. You could store a couple of those counters. Two, max—at least in that loop. Like you were walking around with stolen weapons no one could see."
Deyviel's hands trembled as he tried to process it all. "…So in one loop, I had Adopt. In another… Survive."
"Exactly." Ben's voice was sharp, final. "And if you ever get both at the same time—" His gaze darkened, heavy with something more than just warning. "…that's when you'll be on the path to Bypass All. The very thing the Outer Gods are scared shitless of."
The words hit Deyviel like thunder in his chest. He swallowed, excitement and dread clashing inside him.
Ben stood then, loosening his jacket as his eyes locked onto Deyviel's. "But talk is cheap. I need to see which one you're carrying now."
Deyviel blinked. "…You mean spar?"
Ben smirked without humor, snapping his fingers. The air around them warped—the cabin lights flickering as time itself stuttered. "That's right, brat. Get up."
Deyviel rose to his feet, fists clenched, heart hammering in his chest.
The plane shuddered slightly, turbulence rolling under their feet, but Ben didn't care. His aura pressed forward like a storm. "Show me. Adopt? Survive? Or both. Let's find out before the real monsters do."
And with that, Ben blurred forward—his fist cloaked in distorted time, striking for Deyviel's chest.
The jet's cabin rattled as Ben blurred forward. His fist, wrapped in warped time, slammed against Deyviel's chest.
Instead of collapsing, Deyviel staggered back with a grunt, coughing, but the glow that rippled across his skin wasn't blood—it was a faint shimmer, like glass bending light.
Ben's eyes narrowed. Adopt. His body's dulling the impact already.
"Not bad, brat," Ben muttered, his voice a low growl. "But let's see how long you last."
He snapped his fingers again. Time buckled, and suddenly three Bens flickered around Deyviel at once, each attacking from different angles—one low, one high, one driving straight in with a knee to his ribs.
Deyviel threw his arms up, panic surging—yet his body moved without him. His forearm caught the kick, his ribs tensed as if hardened, the shimmer spreading like armor. At the same time, his other hand lashed out wildly—striking the illusion of Ben behind him.
The clone shattered. The blow had landed.
"What the hell—?" Deyviel gasped. He hadn't even aimed.
Ben reappeared at his flank, jaw tight, fist cocked. "That's Survive." His punch blasted Deyviel across the cabin, rattling seats. The boy groaned, clutching his stomach—but before Ben could press, Deyviel's veins glowed faintly blue, his breath coming easier. His body was already countering the pain.
Ben smirked, though it didn't reach his eyes. So this loop… he's showing both.
He twisted his wrist, conjuring a blade of condensed time itself, its edge humming with unstable energy. "Let's push it."
He slashed. The blade cut air itself, aiming to sever Deyviel's shoulder.
Deyviel flinched, eyes wide, I can't dodge that!—but the instant the blade connected, his skin flared bright, as if coated in invisible steel. The edge screeched against him but didn't break through. At the same time, his other hand ignited with a flash of raw energy and lashed forward like a reflex, smashing into Ben's chest.
The captain stumbled back, actually coughing blood from the impact.
Deyviel froze, staring at his glowing hand. "I-I didn't… mean to—"
Ben wiped his mouth, grinning despite the red on his teeth. "Perfect."
"What?!"
"You're not just adopting damage, brat. You're surviving it. And your body's spitting it back in ways you don't even understand yet." His grin faded into something harder, deadlier. "Which means this loop—you're on the path."
Deyviel's breath quickened, heart pounding as the weight of it hit him. "…Bypass All?"
Ben's smirk twisted darker. He snapped his fingers, and time around them shattered again. "Don't get cocky. You're barely crawling. To reach that final form, you'll have to bleed, suffer, and gamble more than you ever have. And even then—it might eat you alive before it awakens."
The cabin lights flickered, oxygen masks shaking from turbulence, the jet groaning as if straining against their fight.
Deyviel clenched his fists, a wild mix of fear and exhilaration burning in his chest. "Then test me harder, old man. If I'm supposed to survive—I'll survive everything."
Ben's grin widened like a wolf's. "That's what I want to hear."
And the spar reignited—Ben pressing harder, Deyviel's body evolving in real time, every clash pushing him closer to the edge of his awakening.
To be continued..