Time inside the mansion seemed to pass strangely. For the servants, the days were reduced to silent routines, cold corridors, and endless work. But for Damon, that week had been like crossing an abyss.
Seven days of training.
Seven days of sweat, blood, and silence.
Seven days immersed in what Esther called the Emperor's Spear.
At first, it seemed impossible. The words of the manual echoed in his mind like riddles: "The spear does not cut, it commands. It does not pierce, it subdues." He had spent entire nights repeating the First Stance, "The Decree," achieving nothing more than mechanical movements.
Until something changed.
At the third dawn, alone in the empty courtyard, he realized.
It wasn't strength that made the spear obey. It wasn't the demonic energy coursing through his veins. It was something deeper. A conviction, an unshakable certainty that every blow he struck was an order to the world.
And the world… began to respond.
