My Blood Legacy: Bloodlines

Victor slept downstairs, sprawled on the sofa like someone who had simply passed out. One arm hung off the edge, his breathing heavy, his body still reacting to the accumulated exertion of the last few days. Even still, small spasms were visible in his muscles, as if his body were still trying to keep up with a pace that had already ended.

In the next room, Serafall, Carmilla, and Scarlet were talking.

There was no open tension in the air, but it wasn’t exactly relaxed either. It was the kind of conversation that happens when nobody is joking, even if there’s no immediate urgency.

"I’ll need to leave for a few days," Serafall said directly, without beating around the bush. "In the meantime, you two take care of his training."

Carmilla nodded without much thought.

"Okay," she replied simply. "That’s not a problem."

But she didn’t look away.

She spent a few seconds observing Serafall’s face, as if trying to piece together something that didn’t quite fit.

"...But what is that expression?" she asked immediately afterward.

Scarlet, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, turned her face slightly in the same direction.

"I noticed it too," she said. "There’s something wrong with you."

Serafall let out a low sigh.

She didn’t deny it.

She didn’t look away.

She just remained silent for a moment, as if organizing what she wanted to say before speaking.

"I’ve been thinking about some things," she began, in a more restrained tone than usual. "And I want to make sure I’m not... exaggerating."

Carmilla raised an eyebrow slightly.

"That coming from you is already a bad sign," she commented, without irony, just stating a fact. "What kind of thing?"

Serafall crossed her arms, shifting her weight to one leg.

"About his blood," she said. "More specifically... about his ’father’."

Carmilla frowned.

"I thought he didn’t have a father," she replied immediately.

"And he doesn’t," said Serafall. "Not in the usual sense."

There was a short pause.

Then she continued, without changing her tone.

"I stole a genetic sample years ago. It was... unusual. Strong. I didn’t know exactly what it was, but I knew it had value. So I had it used."

Scarlet turned her face slowly.

"...Used how?" she asked, already suspecting the answer.

"I had it inseminated in me," Serafall replied, as if she were talking about something technical.

The silence that followed was short, but heavy.

Scarlet looked directly at her.

"Wait," she said. "You stole something unknown... and used it in your own body?"

Serafall shrugged.

"Yes."

There was no long justification.

No attempt to soften the blow.

Carmilla let out a small sigh through her nose, more tired than surprised. "You really don’t have any limits," she commented.

"I don’t see why I would," Serafall replied.

Scarlet closed her eyes for a second, as if accepting that discussing this would lead nowhere.

"And does this have to do with him now?" she asked.

Serafall nodded slightly.

"Ever since his blood awakened," she said, "and the bloodline began to manifest... I’ve been observing his body more closely."

She paused briefly before continuing.

"And something’s wrong."

Carmilla tilted her head.

"Wrong how?"

"Too fast," Serafall replied. "Too consistent. Too clean."

Scarlet narrowed her eyes slightly.

"Explain."

Serafall took a deep breath, then spoke directly.

"His growth isn’t just tall. He’s... abnormal. Not even the best prodigies in the family come close to that."

Carmilla crossed her arms.

"Who are you comparing him to?"

"Grace Valentine," Serafall replied.

Scarlet reacted with a small nod.

"That already puts it on a high note, if I remember correctly, she’s Chysis’s disciple," she said.

Carmilla agreed.

"I did my research when Victor brought me back to the world of the living. She’s the best recent adaptation we have, if we analyze the last thousand years," she added.

Serafall nodded.

"Exactly. And even then... she doesn’t come close."

Scarlet frowned slightly.

"Does this have to do with gravity training?" she asked.

Serafall answered without hesitation.

"It does."

She glanced downstairs for a moment, as if mentally confirming Victor’s current state.

"It took Grace three days to adjust to the initial load," she explained. "And another two to be able to train steadily."

Carmilla nodded, remembering.

"That was her record, yes."

Serafall turned her gaze to them.

"It took him twelve hours to endure," she said. "And another twelve to overcome."

Silence.

Scarlet said nothing.

Neither did Carmilla.

Serafall continued.

"The next day... he was already doing push-ups."

The silence was longer this time.

Carmilla was the first to react.

"...That’s not just talent," she said, in a low voice.

"No," agreed Serafall. "It isn’t."

Scarlet slowly uncrossed her arms.

"So you think it comes from the donor’s lineage," she concluded.

Serafall nodded.

"It’s the only explanation that makes sense. Since my bloodline isn’t strong, I’m strong because I’ve trained like crazy my whole life, but my bloodline is mediocre."

Carmilla was thoughtful for a few seconds.

"Do you still have access to that sample?" she asked.

"No," Serafall replied. "It was completely used up in the process."

Scarlet let out a small sigh.

"So you don’t know exactly what you put in it."

"No," said Serafall.

Silence again.

Carmilla rested her chin on her hand, analyzing.

"But you think it’s something big enough to justify that," she said.

"Yes," Serafall replied.

Scarlet looked again in the direction where Victor was.

"...And that worries you?" she asked.

Serafall took a little longer to answer this time.

"...No," she finally said.

Pause.

"But it makes me wary." Carmilla let out a small "hm."

"That makes sense."

Scarlet nodded slightly.

"If that’s what it looks like... he’s not just a talent," she said.

Serafall looked down again.

"I know."

The silence returned, but now different.

Heavier.

More focused.

Because, for the first time since training began—

It didn’t just seem like progress.

It seemed like something that hadn’t yet been fully understood.

—

Fourth day.

—

Victor was upside down, supported by one hand against the stone patio floor, his entire body aligned with visible effort as he maintained his balance. The doubled gravity was no longer a shock like on the first day, but it was still far from comfortable. Each repetition required fine-tuning, real control—not just brute force.

Even so, he was there.

Doing push-ups.

With one hand.

The other hung slightly at his side, used more for balance than anything else. The movement was slower than usual, but steady enough not to seem improvised.

In front of him—or rather, above him, considering the perspective—Carmilla sat on the edge of a stone bench, observing the training with an air too calm for someone who clearly knew how absurd it was.

Victor lowered himself once more, his face approaching the ground, before rising with controlled effort. At the top of the movement, he turned his face slightly towards her.

"...Did you know I can see your panties from here?" he commented, completely direct, as if pointing out an irrelevant detail.

Carmilla didn’t move.

She didn’t even seem surprised.

She just looked at him for a second, evaluating the comment with an almost irritating calm.

"It’s good that I can see them," she replied, in the same neutral tone.

Victor blinked once, still upside down.

"...That wasn’t the answer I expected," he said, before descending again.

He climbed.

Controlled.

Carmilla rested her chin on her hand, still watching.

"You’re practicing concentration too, aren’t you?" she added. "So consider this... a distraction."

Victor chuckled softly mid-ascent.

"Interesting how ’distraction’ here always seems intentional," he murmured.

"Of course it is," she replied without hesitation. "If you can only perform in perfect conditions, then it’s not very useful."

He was silent for a moment, absorbing this while maintaining his pace.

He descended.

He climbed.

This time, a little more steadily.

"So the plan is to get used to any kind of situation?" he asked.

"Exactly."

Victor nodded slightly—which, in that position, was an awkward movement.

"That makes sense," he said.

Short pause.

"...Still, it’s still kind of unfair."

Carmilla gave a small, wry smile.

"It would be unfair if I didn’t have her. You could come over here for a little bit and suck me off. I miss you, you know? Take advantage of the fact that your mommy isn’t here—"

Before he could answer, a soft footstep echoed across the patio.

Scarlet approached, stopping beside him, arms crossed as she watched the scene for a few seconds.

"...He’s already doing it with one hand?" she commented, more to Carmilla than to him.

"Since early on," she replied. ’Spoilsport... wanted to flirt a little.’

Scarlet analyzed the movement more closely.

"Too steady," she said softly. "His adaptation is still accelerating."

Victor lowered himself again, breathing steadily.

"You talk as if I’m not here," he commented, without stopping the exercise.

Scarlet glanced at him.

"You’re busy," she replied simply.

He let out a small "hm" in response, rising again.

"Fair enough."

Carmilla slowly uncrossed her legs, still keeping her gaze on him.

"How many already?" she asked.

Victor took a second to answer, more focused on finishing the movement than counting.

"...I lost count," he admitted.

Scarlet let out a small sigh.

"Then start again," she said. "If you don’t control the count, you don’t control the workout."

Victor closed his eyes for a moment at the peak of the movement.

He breathed.

"...Zero," he murmured.

He lowered himself again, focusing on regaining his rhythm from the beginning, as Scarlet had instructed. His breathing gradually stabilized, his body finding that strange point of equilibrium again between effort and control. His hand firmly on the ground, his torso aligned, the movement clean.

This time, he tried to completely ignore any distractions.

It worked... for a few seconds.

Until he noticed something.

His gaze, still inverted by the position, ended up shifting slightly—not intentionally, but out of that kind of automatic curiosity that arises when your wife is in front of you, come on, you understand.

Scarlet was there.

Standing beside him.

Arms uncrossed now.

And wearing a dress.

Victor blinked.

Once.

"...Wait," he murmured, more to himself than to them, still in the middle of the movement.

He went down.

He went up.

His brain processing too slowly for someone in that position.

The angle.

The perspective.

And then—

He saw... or rather, he didn’t see the panties, because they were anywhere but on Scarlet’s pink pussy.

His body froze for half a second at the top of the push-up.

Mistake.

Serious mistake.

The concentration he had been maintaining with such effort simply broke at that instant, like a thread pulled beyond its limit.

His arm trembled.

It became misaligned.

And gave way.

"—Oh, shit." His whole body collapsed sideways, completely losing his balance and hitting the ground with a dry impact, far less controlled than any previous fall.

Silence.

For a second.

Victor lay there, staring into nothingness, still processing what had just happened.

"...That was a low blow," he murmured, without even trying to get up yet.

Carmilla slowly turned her face toward Scarlet.

Then toward Victor.

And then a small smile appeared.

"You were the one talking about concentration," she commented calmly.

Scarlet didn’t seem affected at all.

She just looked at him, tilting her head slightly.

"I didn’t do anything," she said directly.

Victor turned his face towards her, still on the floor.

"...Didn’t do anything?" he asked. "You’re showing me that pink pussy while I’m training, and you still tell me ’I didn’t do anything’?"

Scarlet shrugged, "Do what? Blame your mother for restricting us, for getting me horny. Seriously, being sexually frustrated having a strong, hot man and not being able to use him is scary, you know?" She said.

Carmilla just nodded...

’Thinking like that...’ Victor thought~