"How did you know?" I asked, momentarily taken aback by the abruptness of his question.

"Anyone with a modicum of perception would know," he replied, lowering his cup back to the table with deliberate slowness. "You appear to be of an age where mana should be second nature, yet you emit none. It would be more peculiar if I had not noticed."

I couldn't suppress my irritation as I recalled the string of weight-related jests. "Then what the hell was the point of the disguise?" I demanded.

"Most likely to obscure the finer details of your appearance. Have you antagonized someone of considerable standing?" he inquired, his tone almost casual.

"No, but my presence could bring trouble to those around me," I admitted, matching his nonchalance. His demeanor shifted in an instant, his gaze hardening to a cold intensity.

"Are you suggesting that your presence might endanger my daughter?" he asked, his voice now edged with menace. A shiver threatened to betray me, but I forced it down and answered steadily, "It does."

For a tense moment, he scrutinized me with a glare that could pierce stone, his murderous intent palpable. Then, as suddenly as it had appeared, it dissipated. "Not bad, kid. Most adults I know would crumble under that pressure. You might just be worth training. Now, follow the butler to your temporary quarters. Training begins tomorrow," he instructed, rising from his seat and turning his back to me. "Wait," I called after him, "shouldn't we start as soon as possible? Master seemed concerned about something imminent."

"Training an exhausted body yields little to no benefit," he retorted without looking back. "You may not feel it now, but I'm sure those training weights are taking their toll on your underdeveloped frame." With that, he left the room, clearly uninterested in any further dialogue.

A deep voice from my left interrupted my thoughts. "If you would follow me," it said, drawing my attention to a figure I hadn't noticed before. Nodding in acknowledgment, I followed the butler out of the opulent room.

The corridor we entered was an extravagant display of wealth and lineage. A plush red wool carpet, its edges embroidered with golden highlights, ran the length of the floor. The walls were adorned with portraits, presumably of Duke Ainsworth's ancestors. Each figure shared the Duke’s distinctive hair and upright posture. The women depicted bore a vague resemblance to someone I couldn't quite place. Below these paintings, various pieces of gear were showcased in large, clear display cases. There were necklaces, rings, and occasionally weapons. Each item exuded a unique aura, markedly different from anything I had seen in the blacksmith's shop.

The creak of a door hinge snapped me back to the present. The butler stood holding the door open for me. I stepped inside and took in my new surroundings. The room, while less grandiose than the rest of the house, was still more spacious than any place I'd ever called home. It was easily two or three times the size of Baomu's entire hut back in the village. The furnishings were minimal: a bed in one corner and a shelf opposite it.

With nothing to unpack, I began to remove the weighted clothes I had been wearing. I had just lifted my shirt when the door burst open. A feminine voice rang out, the pitch rising slightly at the end, "So you're the... demon?"

"Yeah, what about it?" I replied, lowering the shirt to get a better look at the intruder. She appeared to be around my age but lacked the intimidating presence of her father or Greg. Her hair was the same color as the Duke’s, and her eyes were a deep, mesmerizing scarlet. Her expression was a mix of wariness and curiosity, but there was no hint of the harsh life her father potentially endured. No scars, no signs of battle—she was untouched by the world's cruelties.

"Are you the Duke's daughter?" I asked, hiding my irritation at her unannounced entrance.

"I am," she confirmed, her tone straightforward. "I overheard some of the conversation while Mister Greg was here. I snuck away after he left."

"In that case, they likely knew you were listening and didn't care. That being said, I don't mind you knowing about me any longer," I replied, turning my back to her to signal the end of the conversation. Yet she persisted.

"Why are you here?" she pressed, either oblivious to my dismissal or willfully ignoring it.

"Training," I answered bluntly. "I need to learn to wield my new weapons. Now, please leave. I was told to rest before tomorrow."

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Without another word, she exited, leaving me in a silence that felt almost oppressive. I did feel a twinge of guilt for my harshness, but I needed the time alone—to rest, to think, to reflect.

The room, though sparsely furnished, offered a tranquility I hadn't expected. The bed, while simple, promised a comfort I rarely experienced. The shelf opposite it was bare, save for a single book whose title I couldn't discern from where I stood. The walls, painted a muted beige, gave the room a soothing warmth that contrasted sharply with the luxurious coldness of the corridor outside.

I sank onto the bed, the exhaustion of the day's events finally catching up to me. The weights had indeed taken a toll, my muscles aching with a dull throb. I lay back, staring at the ceiling, trying to piece together my thoughts. The Duke's stern demeanor, the unexpected arrival of his daughter, and the weight of the training ahead—all these swirled in my mind.

As I drifted into a restless sleep, I couldn't help but wonder about the path that lay ahead. The Duke's training would undoubtedly be grueling, but it was a necessary step. I had to be stronger, not just for revenge, but also to ensure no else has to experience what I or that poor elven village had to.

Morning came too soon, the first rays of sunlight piercing through the heavy drapes. I sat up, stretching the stiffness from my limbs. A soft knock at the door signaled the start of the day. The butler entered, his expression as unreadable as ever.

"Good morning. Breakfast is served in the dining hall. Master awaits your presence," he announced.

I nodded, quickly donning my clothes. The weights were gone, replaced by a sense of anticipation. Today marked the beginning of my training under the Duke's watchful eye. As I followed the butler back through the ornate corridors, I steeled myself for the challenges ahead.

The dining hall was a grand affair, dominated by a long table laden with an array of dishes. The Duke sat at the head, his gaze inscrutable. His daughter was there to his right, her eyes flicking to me with a mix of curiosity and something else I couldn't quite identify.

"Eat well," the Duke commanded as I took a seat. "You will need the strength Ashoc."

The meal passed in relative silence, the tension in the air palpable. Once we had finished, the Duke stood, signaling the start of the day's training. We made our way to a spacious courtyard, the morning air crisp and invigorating.

"Today, we begin with the basics," the Duke announced. "Your foundation must be solid if you are to master your new weapons. The ultimate goal of training with your weapons is to make them feel less like weapons and more like extensions of your own body."

The training was intense, pushing me to my limits and beyond. The Duke's methods were harsh but annoyingly effective in forcing me to realize my mistakes, each session meticulously designed to hone my skills and build my strength. Hours blurred into days, each one a relentless cycle of training and recovery. After each training session, I'd spend much of the following night reflecting on what I could have done better, or what counters are best for which situation. Most solutions I'd think of however, were much easier said than done.

Despite the grueling regimen, I found myself improving day by day. My movements became more fluid, my strikes more precise. The Duke's daughter often watched from a distance, her presence a silent reminder that this was temporary and that I should make the most of my time here.

One evening, after an especially brutal session, she approached me as I sat catching my breath. "You're improving," she remarked, her tone almost grudgingly admiring.

"Thanks," I replied, surprised by her acknowledgment, but still inwardly feeling inadequate.

"Why do you push yourself so hard?" she asked, genuine curiosity in her eyes.

I considered her question for a moment before answering. "There are things I must do and people I must fight. If I were to fight them now, I believe I'd stand little to no chance. To win that fight and guard others from what I've suffered through, I need strength."

She seemed to ponder my words, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. "I see," she said finally. "You're not at all like other demons huh." There was a smile on her face, so I knew her intention was to compliment me, but it had the opposite effect. It seems in the eyes of others I'll never truly be myself and nothing else.

With that, she turned and walked away, leaving me to my thoughts. Her words echoed in my mind, a reminder of the resolve that had brought me here.

As the days turned into weeks and weeks into a few months, the Duke's training began to show more tangible results. My body grew stronger, my reflexes sharper. The weapons that had once felt unwieldy now moved as extensions of my own limbs. I could even pressure the elite guards that resided here. The female guard from the first day here and the Duke being the only two people who soundly best me.

One afternoon, the Duke called me into his study. "You've made significant progress," he noted, a rare hint of approval in his voice. "But there is still much to learn."

"I understand," I replied, determination burning in my eyes.

He nodded. "Good. Tomorrow, we begin the next phase of your training. Be prepared."

With that, he dismissed me, leaving me with a sense of anticipation and dread. The journey ahead was long and fraught with challenges, but I was ready. I had to be.

That night, as I lay in bed, I thought about the road that had led me here. The hardships, the sacrifice, and the unwavering resolve to keep moving forward. My mind even wondered back to master and whatever he could have been up to since I'd last seen him. I'll definitely beat him in our next fight.

Sleep came slowly, my mind racing with the possibilities of what lay ahead. But as exhaustion finally claimed me, I knew one thing was for sure. I was stronger than I was when I first arrived here and would continue to grow from here.