Despite the events causing instability in the Argaris Republic, Mart did not change his routine. As long as it did not directly affect him or his partners, he had decided not to act until he reached a level that would give him multiple options for victory and reduce the chances of defeat.

In one of the closed training camps, dozens of spiral-tipped blades flew one after another toward Meleic.

Bang! Bang! Bang!...

Meleic, attentive to each of the attacks, cut, blocked, or dodged them with greater ease as he closed the distance.

"There are fluctuations in his energy, and it does not seem to be due to exhaustion or instability; it appears that he is finding a way to raise his energy to the next level; perhaps he can create his incipient aura in a year; his talent is not as great as Moraf's, but he is also a demon with lineage," Mart concluded as he jumped on one of the 20 spiral-tipped blades he had made float and then moved his left hand, extending his arm in the direction of Meleic.

Meleic sensed the 19 blades approaching from different directions. At that moment, he felt a powerful connection with his scimitar, swung it, and a powerful shockwave dispersed the blades.

Bang!

Meleic leaped swiftly toward Mart. He didn't want to waste the connection he was feeling with his weapon.

Meleic swung his scimitar once more and broke through the demonic barrier protecting Mart.

Mart nodded in approval as he raised his left hand in the direction of the scimitar's blade.

In an instant, that's what he had been practicing for, to increase the speed with which he activated his demonic spells; in an instant, Mart created a blade of concentrated demonic energy and, with the demonic spells concatenated, attacked using just the right amount of power.

Explosion!

Moraf, who had been watching his seniors' training combat with amazement, had to create a demonic barrier to deflect the force of the shockwave caused by Meleic's power when it collided with Mart's power.

When everything returned to calm, Meleic had been knocked back several meters, but Mart remained in the same place.

"Why are you so powerful?" Meleic asked, looking Mart in the eyes. There was anticipation in Meleic's voice.

Mart looked at Meleic, knowing that sooner or later Meleic would realize that there was a difference in power between them. However, part of the difference was offset by the power of the scimitar.

"I am stronger because I carry a greater burden. If I answer accurately, you will have to carry part of that burden. Are you willing?" Mart asked thoughtfully.

"You're not one of those traitors, are you?" Melic said, half-jokingly, half-seriously.

Mart shook his head, his expression calm at that moment.

Meleic understood and asked:

"Will I become stronger?"

"That depends on you and your determination, but I can assure you that you will regain your arm," Mart replied.

Moraf did not understand exactly what was happening. He was curious, but he just listened.

Meleic's eyes did not hide his surprise, because in the republic there were only two ways to achieve such a level of physical regeneration: one was through a miraculous potion; the other was through the power of a demonic sorcerer with high-level healing powers. However, the two ways in which he could restore his lost arm were rare and were in the hands of the Republican Council.

The Republican Council evaluated the talent of those who wished to recover from serious injuries; if the talent of the applicant was valuable, they would agree, but of course, nothing is free. Anyone who received the miraculous potion or treatment from the demonic sorcerer of the Republican Council had to take a demonic oath of allegiance to the Republican Council.

Since Meleic was considered the successor to the Duchy of Asfent, he did not consider such an option. But now a new opportunity lay before him.

"Can I still aspire to become the successor to the Duchy of Asfent?" Meleic asked firmly, trying to hide his concern at a possible refusal.

"Yes, that would be best," Mart replied.

Meleic nodded and asked again:

"Why are you so powerful?"

Mart waved his left hand, creating multiple demonic barriers linked together with different functions.

Moraf could see dozens and dozens of demonic barriers appearing around Mart and Meleic, and now he couldn't hear what was happening inside.

"What's going on?" Moraf wondered to himself as his curiosity continued to grow.

All Moraf could see was Mart's lips moving and then the look of confusion that appeared in Meleic's eyes. Then the demonic barriers turned black, and he could see no more.

...

Mart extended his left hand toward Meleic, and a demonic pill appeared floating above Mart's palm.

Meleic could feel the powerful and mysterious demonic energy contained within the pill. "This is beyond the level of a miracle potion," thought Meleic, who had no choice but to believe Mart's answer. Who would dare to say that someone was lying when they were guarding a treasure that could easily buy a duchy, Meleic concluded.

"Now that I have given you an answer, what will you do?" Mart asked in a rather solemn tone.

Meleic reached out his hand to take the regenerative demon pill.

"Yes, you will be an exceptional ally in the future," thought Mart with a subtle smile.

...

A few minutes later, the demonic barriers broke, and Mart and Meleic left the combat arena of the closed training camp.

After Meleic drank a demonic potion to recover some of his demonic energy, he returned to training, this time facing Moraf. The two were distracted; Meleic was still thinking about Mart's words, and Moraf couldn't easily shake off his curiosity, but as he listened to the beginning of the conversation between Mart and Meleic, he realized that if he found out, he would have to carry a heavy burden, and that was something he wanted to think about calmly.

After the training ended, the three said goodbye and went their separate ways to take care of their own business.

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