After a day's march, the Demon Defense Force arrived at the towering walls of the Duke's castle.
Over the course of the journey, the soldiers had grown fond of Jin. His innocent appearance and quiet nature elicited their sympathy. They had washed the filth from his skin, fed him from their own rations, and offered what comfort they could. Jin, the silent observer, accepted it all, effortlessly earning their trust.
"Open the gates!" the commander shouted from the head of the column.
The great, iron-banded gates of the castle groaned as they were raised, allowing the soldiers to march into the main courtyard. As they entered, a young noblewoman rushed toward the commander.
"Commander Lionex!" she called out, her voice fraught with anxiety. "Have you subjugated those vile demons?"
Lionex's hardened expression softened with pity. "Please, do not be concerned, my lady. Not a single one of them survived."
"But... what about the captives?" she pressed, her voice trembling. "My daughter?"
"I am deeply sorry," he said, his voice heavy with a truth he could not soften.
As he spoke, a lavish carriage rolled to a stop nearby. The door opened to reveal a noble lady, her face pale with dread. Her eyes locked onto the commander, having overheard the exchange. A choked gasp escaped her lips, followed by a heart-wrenching cry that echoed across the courtyard.
"My daughter!"
Jin, now sitting in a separate carriage, watched the scene unfold with silent, analytical eyes. He felt no pity for the grieving mother, only a cold sense of gratification. Her daughter's sacrifice, along with the others, had been the catalyst for his own rebirth—a truly great opportunity.
"Mother," another young child, a boy, said from beside the noblewoman, "please don't be sad."
Just then, a man flanked by two guards in heavy, ornate plate armor approached. He was dressed in elegant, refined clothing, yet his presence was overwhelmingly powerful. It was the Duke.
"You are my brother's widow," he said to the grieving woman, his voice firm but laced with sorrow. "That makes your daughter my own niece. Her death is as if my own daughter has died!"
He raised a fist, his knuckles white, and his aura flared with might. "I swear to you, I shall have vengeance!"
Jin observed the Duke, his sharp eyes analyzing the man's power, his influence, and the entire situation. The Duke, as if feeling the intensity of the gaze, turned and noticed the small boy looking out from the supply carriage.
"Who is that?" he asked Lionex.
"He is the only survivor we found in the cave, Your Grace," the commander answered.
"Bring him to me," the Duke commanded.
Gilga gently lifted Jin from the carriage and carried him before the Duke.
"Boy," the Duke said, his voice softer now but still carrying immense authority, "tell me. What were the last moments of my niece's life like?"
Jin immediately adopted a look of pure terror, shrinking back as if recalling a nightmare. "I... I don't want to remember," he whispered, his voice trembling.
"Tell me," the Duke insisted, his gaze unwavering. "Do this for me, and I will see to it that you are fed and cared for. You will want for nothing."
That was precisely what Jin wanted to hear.
"It was horrific," Jin said, and with perfect control, he forced tears to well up in his eyes. "Big Sister... she died..." he choked out, his small body wracked with fabricated sobs. "She was so kind to me... she tried to protect me..."
Hearing this, the girl's mother let out another wounded cry.
The Duke's expression hardened into a mask of cold fury. "You have done well," he said to Jin, his mind now set on retribution. "Take him away. See that he is given a room and a warm meal."
Gilga led Jin away from the courtyard, his heavy soldier's boots echoing through the grand, torchlit halls of the castle. Finally, they arrived at a guest chamber. It was modest for a ducal estate, but spacious enough for cultivation. Jin needed nothing more.
"You should get some rest, son," Gilga said, his voice full of warmth.
"Okay," Jin replied meekly. Gilga gave him a reassuring nod before leaving and closing the heavy oak door behind him.
The moment the lock clicked, the innocent, frightened expression vanished from Jin's face, replaced by a look of cold, calculating appraisal. He walked to a large mirror on the wall and studied his new body for the first time.
He saw a boy with long, ink-black hair, skin as pale and smooth as jade, and wide, brown eyes that seemed too large for his face. He looked like an abandoned child, fragile and harmless.
"A striking resemblance to my past self," Jin noted, a flicker of astonishment in his voice.
He focused on his own reflection, staring into the brown eyes. "Though these will change color soon enough."
Dismissing his appearance, he sat on the floor in a lotus position and began circulating the newly assimilated energy through his body. Now that the nine pathways were open, he could begin the process of strengthening and expanding them. The pain was still present, but it was a dull ache now, no longer the soul-rending agony of before.
With his profound understanding of cultivation, he knew his progress would be terrifyingly rapid.
"The Book of Heaven and Earth is still too much for this vessel to handle," he thought, analyzing his limits. "I cannot yet invoke its principles externally."
A predatory gleam entered his eyes.
"But given time, I will master this body. Perhaps I will even be able to unleash the fourth chapter, something I never achieved in my last life. Before any of that, however, I must first learn to manifest my spiritual energy."
After three hours of deep cultivation, Jin stood up and walked to the chamber window, gazing out at the moonlit castle grounds. He calmly recalled the day's events.
These humans are weak, he mused. Not a single one, not even the Duke, could sense the roiling spiritual energy residing in my body. If there had been a true expert among them, they would have recognized the power he now held, even in this child's form.
This confirmed his theory. At best, the strongest warriors in this castle were not even at the first layer of the Bronze Stage. He was, in fact, in the lowest of the Five Realms.
A cold, confident smile touched his lips.
"With my nine pathways open, I can break through to the Bronze Stage in two days, at most. In a month, I will be strong enough to challenge this entire castle alone."
He looked up at the distant, uncaring moon, but his thoughts were of a golden warrior from a lifetime ago. His voice was a low, chilling whisper that promised an inevitable future.
"Arthur... This time, I will prove that I am the strongest to have ever lived under the heavens."