A month had gone by during my intensive training with Eckhart, preparing me against the Phantom Blades. He didn't go easy on me, and I didn't complain. Carlo took part sometimes and would be a massive boon to my progress. After my defeat, I knew that my limits were something I had to overcome; Eckhart had the answer.

Week after week, I was put through a rigorous schedule that involved developing some new talents. Eckhart didn't skip a beat; I kept pace, and Carlo ensured I got back on my feet if things were too much.

Winter had arrived, and so did my birthday yet again. I was eleven years old; a year had passed during my stay in Saiana. After a year of training, I was stronger than the average eleven-year-old noble.

"How are your injuries?" Eckhart approaches me.

"I'm in tip-top shape despite how badly they beat me; time does wonders."

"Good, then are you ready to challenge them?"

"Can't I just challenge their leader? Wouldn't that be a proper duel?"

"Not if you want to set an example; they all participated in your defeat one way or another. No, as a knight, the son Valum Aris, this is the way. I won't be satisfied otherwise."

"You strike a hard bargain, Eckhart." I noticed a slight shift in his attitude toward me during the last month together. His commands were still the same tone, but they felt less directed at me and more so to motivate me. It was an odd feeling I needed to ask about sometime later.

I walked away that day to see Julia. She was doing better. I was more than happy to see her return to normal, even with a few new scars. She had heard about what happened to me from Yula. Apparently, she visits her frequently to listen to her stories as an adventurer. After dropping by, I quickly left and went to visit Yula next. I never thanked her and her grandfather for saving me. It was the least I could do.

It was a loud knock; a moment of silence had paused, sounds of embers smoldering. There are a few footsteps before the door opens, revealing a bulky dwarf in his later years. His dark red skin flexed with each of his movements. Squinting his eyes at me, he lets out an elongated sigh before dusting himself off any substances.

"What do you want, boy?" Gorg said with a rough tone.

"I just came by to properly thank you for aiding me. I want to thank Yula as well."

"She isn't here, but if you want to step in and wait, you may. However, I am busy working, so I cannot treat you."

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"I don't mind."

"Mmm..."

Without much care, Gorg turned away and left the door open for my presence. Without a care, he returns to his forge and finishes the cast for some armor. I figured it would be okay to sit near his forge and observe, seeing as I had nothing better to do.

He worked effortlessly with each step of the forge. His craft was something else; it was impressive and showed his character. The man was obsessed with blacksmithing. He certainly took pride in his work, yet when he finished the piece, a part of him saddened for a brief moment until he realized I was still nearby.

"You like to stare, boy?" He asked sternly.

"Sorry, I just couldn't help but notice your craft. It surely is quite exquisite. Have you been a blacksmith most of your life?"

"As a small lad, it was nothing but a pipe dream. Something that my family made it clear that blacksmithing was a curse for our family. I never understood what they meant until I began to work in the forge. But this is my passion. It will forever be a part of me. Does that answer your question?"

"More or less. I didn't mean to pry."

"Everyone asks me what I do, and it has grown rather common."

"Does Yula work the forge?"

"She does not, as you know she isn't my real granddaughter, nor we are related by blood."

"Was she an orphan?"

"I knew her parents. They were a sweet couple; they had died in a random attack by a demon. Her father protected her as a baby as long as he could until I came across his corpse and the crying child. I had only returned from a business trip and found that. I took her away from the massacre and raised her by myself. She is still the sweet and youthful child she always was, but she will outlive me far longer than I had planned to put on her."

"Are you afraid of dying?"

"Everyone is afraid of dying; that is just natural. However, I don't want to miss out on her growth as well. Keeping her close is all I can do to ensure she is cared for."

"Well, don't you think that might be a little constricting on her? Wouldn't she want more freedom to herself?"

"A naive answer, but yes, that is something she wants. However, our world isn't too generous to those people."

"Well, what if you let her-"

Before I could finish, there was a loud bang on the door; Gorg quickly walked to the door and opened it to let in Yula, who was carrying a bag of supplies and other things they needed to live with. She stopped the moment she saw me and looked at Gorg, who gave her a raised eyebrow.

"What is he doing here?" Yula asked him.

"He is here to thank us for saving him, but don't give him too much compassion."

"Alright!"

She quickly sat beside me and looked at me before showing her respect. I didn't expect her to act in such a way. A long and drawn-out sigh escaped my lips, but it left an impression that I had a lot going on in my mind.

"Well, like he said, I am here to say thank you for saving my life!" I bow my head, an old habit.

"No, no, it is quite alright. You helped me escape any danger that day. But I am glad you are doing much better now."

"Yes, quite so. But I am going to duel them in the public's eyes."

Yula and Gorg look at each other before looking back at me. Their expressions were broad. I knew they would have some serious questions, but I knew my time was limited from the beginning, so I got from my seat and reached the door.

"Don't worry, I don't plan on losing this time."

I open and close the door behind me, letting them sit with that information.