The Powerless Noble

"Weakling!"

"Weakling!"

"Weakling!"

The kids at the Royal Academy constantly bullied him, calling him a weakling. A weakling they say even though he is the son of a powerful vampire. Even though he is a high ranking noble and an heir of the entire Ural region.

"Hey, you piece of sh*ts!! Get away from him!" He heard a voice mixed on the insults and not long when someone pushed the boy who was on top of him, punching his face and calling him a weakling as the rest of 'em.

"Are you ok?" with his eyes swollen and vision blurry, he can still see the face of that savior-- A girl with long blonde hair on a pigtail, white skin toned freezing on that winter breeze and a voice of an angel.

"Are you ok?" she repeated her question as she pulls his arm and let him stand on his own. He stopped daydreaming when he got up.

"I-I am fine"