The Duke straightened his spine, violet eyes igniting with a resolute flame befitting his identity: "Understood! I only want to become stronger, only want revenge!"
Hems nodded, his facial lines seeming to soften slightly: "Over there, the third tree hole is still empty. Though it's a bit drafty, it's dry enough. Go settle in. There will be a group training in the evening, don't be late."
He pointed to a spacious tree hollow naturally formed at the roots of a colossal ancient tree on the edge of the camp.
The Duke thanked him and walked toward his temporary home.
The interior of the tree hole was more spacious than expected, covered with dry moss and a few old animal skins, with a faint woody fragrance.
He put down his luggage and did a simple arrangement.
Through the entrance of the tree hole, he could see the panorama of the camp, hear snippets of hushed conversations, and feel the swirling vortex of complex and genuine emotions.
