As Ren slept comfortably for the first time in months, wrapped in soft blankets on a fluffy bed, the curtains beside him suddenly drew open.
Golden sunlight streamed in through the window, spilling across his face.
Ren squinted, his eyes twitching against the bright light as he stirred from the depths of a long, peaceful sleep.
Then came a deep voice.
"Ren, wake up. It's time to train."
Ren slowly opened his eyes.
Standing by the window was Eldric, dressed not in armor, but in simple clothes — a gray shirt and cream-colored trousers. He was holding the curtain aside, sunlight outlining his broad silhouette.
Ren sat up in bed, blinking groggily.
It had been so long since someone had woken him like this…
Like Wren used to.
Ren stood up.
Eldric stepped forward, placing a firm but gentle hand on his shoulder. Without a word, he turned Ren around and gave him a soft push — urging him to walk.
Still groggy, Ren stumbled forward as Eldric guided him to the bathroom door.
"Ren," Eldric said, "go brush your teeth and meet me on the training grounds."
Ren gave a small nod and walked inside, quietly shutting the door behind him.
The room was simple and clean. He approached the basin, but as he looked down… there was no toothbrush.
Just a small, worn twig placed neatly on the counter.
He blinked.
And then, a memory stirred.
A campfire crackled under the open sky. The smell of smoke and pine.
He was younger then — maybe six or seven — sitting cross-legged beside his father in the woods.
"See this, Ren?" his father said, holding up a twig. "Out here in the wild, this is your toothbrush."
"You chew the end until it frays — like this."
He demonstrated, biting and softening the twig until its fibers spread like bristles.
Little Ren tried to mimic him — but the twig was too tough. He chewed, struggled, and nearly gave up until his father chuckled and helped him.
The memory faded.
Back in the quiet bathroom, Ren picked up the twig.
He bit into one end, working at it slowly until it began to fray.
As he started brushing his teeth with it, his reflection stared back at him — older, wearier, but still holding onto something deep inside.
I need to find a way back home, he thought
After brushing his teeth, Ren stepped out of the bathroom and began walking down the hallway toward the training grounds.
As he passed a wide section of wall, something caught his eye — a large, framed picture.In it stood Eldric, flanked by Thalira,Liora, and seven others. They were younger then, smiling, dressed in battle-worn armor, standing against a scenic backdrop. There was a weight to the photo — a story it didn't tell aloud.
Ren paused for a heartbeat, then continued walking.
The hallway opened out into a vast training ground, the morning sun now high in the sky. The open field was lined with worn tracks, wooden dummies, weapon racks, and circles marked for sparring.
Eldric stood at the center, waiting, arms crossed — no longer just a gentle wake-up figure, but now every bit the seasoned warrior.
Ren walked up to him and said, "I'm ready to train."
Eldric gave a small nod.
"First, we'll test your strength. But before that — stamina. I need to know how much your body can take.""Run along the perimeter of the field. As fast as you can. No stopping."
Ren didn't question it. He nodded and stepped into position, crouching slightly, arms tensed.
Eldric raised a hand, then brought it down.
"Go!"
Ren launched forward, pushing with everything he had. For the first few moments, he dashed like a blur — fast, determined.But his energy drained quickly. His legs grew heavier with each step, lungs burning with each breath.
Halfway through the run, his pace faltered.His vision blurred slightly as exhaustion took over.
He staggered, came to a halt, and bent forward, hands braced on his knees.
"I... I can't run anymore," he gasped, his voice ragged.
Eldric was already at his side, offering a glass of water.
"That's enough for now. Come sit. Rest."
Ren took the water with shaky hands, gulping it down as he tried to steady his breathing.
And as he sat on the edge of the training circle, chest rising and falling
"Now, let's test your strength," Eldric said, pointing toward a large sack resting beside the training post.
"It's filled with grain. Try to lift it."
Ren took a deep breath and approached the sack.
He stared at it for a moment, then crouched, wrapping his arms around it tightly.
With a strained grunt, he tried to lift — and the sack barely rose off the ground before he had to drop it with a gasp.
Eldric stepped forward and nodded.
"That's enough. You did well today."
He placed a hand on Ren's shoulder.
"We'll increase the training gradually. One step at a time."
Later that night, after Ren had gone to sleep, the manor was quiet.
In a cozy room warmed by the soft crackling of the fireplace, Thalira, Liora, and Eldric sat on couches, the glow of the flames casting long shadows across the walls.
Thalira turned to Liora.
"Are Ren's mana pathways healing?"
Liora gave a quiet sigh, her gaze distant.
"There's severe damage. Healing will take time… and care."
Thalira nodded slightly, her expression unreadable. Then she turned to Eldric.
"And the training? How was he today?"
Eldric leaned back, arms crossed.
"Physically, his wounds are gone. But his body is still weak — maybe half the strength and stamina of a normal boy his age.
No signs of mental instability, though. That's… surprising, considering what he's been through."
Thalira's gaze lingered on the fire.
"Children are strange like that. They break easily… but they also find reasons to hope. To smile again."
Her tone turned serious as she looked at both of them.
"We must make him self-reliant before our time with him runs out."
She stood, her shadow stretching across the room.
"Eldric — you'll train him physically. Liora — teach him about this world: its history, the demons, potions, magic.
I'll handle leadership, strategy, and resource management."
Liora and Eldric both nodded, firm and resolute.
Thalira stretched her arms above her head, then glanced back at them with a faint smile.
"We will teach him everything we know. It's our duty to pass the torch to the next generation.