The training grounds of the Valecrest Manor stretched across a vast open section near the eastern side of the estate, separated from the main courtyards by stone walls engraved with the crest of the duchy.

Unlike the elegant gardens and decorative walkways of the manor itself, this place carried a rougher atmosphere, one built entirely around discipline and combat.

Rows of weapon racks stood along the edges of the field, filled with training swords, spears, shields, and wooden practice weapons of every kind, while several sparring platforms occupied the center grounds, their surfaces marked with countless scars left behind from years of practice.

The faint sounds of steel colliding echoed occasionally from distant sections where guards trained among themselves, while instructors barked corrections toward younger trainees attempting to imitate proper forms.

Yet despite the usual activity—

A strange tension had settled across the entire field today.

Because at the center of one of the sparring grounds stood Damon.

And directly in front of him—

Saffron.

The little boy held a wooden sword tightly in both hands, his posture visibly stiff as sweat gathered along his forehead despite the cool morning breeze. His small body trembled ever so slightly while he stared at Damon standing calmly before him, completely barehanded, with not even the slightest sign of seriousness visible on his face.

Damon looked down at the child quietly before speaking.

"Really?" he asked calmly. "Is this how you plan to fight against your big brother?"

Saffron’s grip tightened instantly.

His expression became even more tense.

Around the field, several guards, attendants, and maids watched from a distance with nervous expressions, their murmurs spreading quietly among themselves.

"Y-young master Damon is personally sparring with young master Saffron...?"

"T-this should be fine... right?"

"I heard young master Damon used to..."

"Shhh! Don’t say it out loud..."

Some looked openly worried, while others seemed unable to decide whether to interfere or stay silent, especially after witnessing Damon’s actions throughout the past few days.

Meanwhile, Saffron swallowed nervously before suddenly lunging forward with a shout, the wooden sword swinging toward Damon with all the strength his small body could muster.

Damon moved casually.

A simple shift of his shoulders was enough for the strike to pass harmlessly beside him.

"Too stiff," Damon said calmly.

Before Saffron could recover, Damon lightly tapped the boy’s wrist with two fingers.

"Relax your grip. If your hands lock up like that, your movements become obvious."

Saffron gritted his teeth and attacked again, this time attempting a lower swing toward Damon’s side, but Damon stepped aside smoothly once more, his movements effortless compared to the child desperately trying to keep up.

"And your footing is uneven," Damon continued while avoiding another strike. "You are putting too much weight forward. If someone stronger pushes you once, you will fall immediately."

Saffron’s breathing grew heavier.

Frustration slowly mixed with the fear already present inside him as he swung again and again, each attack faster than the last, yet not a single one even brushed Damon’s clothes.

Damon continued avoiding every strike with minimal movement, occasionally correcting Saffron’s stance with a light push of the shoulder or repositioning his arms before stepping away again.

"Keep your elbows tighter."

"Do not look only at the weapon."

"Watch the entire body."

"Again."

Saffron’s face gradually reddened from exhaustion and humiliation alike as he tried harder and harder to land even a single hit, but the difference between them felt impossible to cross.

"Hah—!"

The wooden sword came down once more.

Damon leaned slightly to the side.

The blade missed.

Saffron stumbled forward from the momentum, only for Damon to grab the back of his clothes casually before he could fall face-first into the ground.

"You are rushing too much," Damon said calmly as he steadied him again. "A sword is not useful if your emotions control your body first."

Saffron bit his lip hard enough to hurt.

Fear still lingered inside him.

Fear of Damon.

Fear of making mistakes.

Fear of being hurt.

Yet beneath all of it—

Frustration had begun growing stronger and stronger with every failed attempt.

"Again," Damon said.

Saffron immediately raised the wooden sword once more despite his trembling arms.

Saffron charged forward again and again after that, refusing to stop despite the exhaustion already weighing heavily on his small body. The wooden sword swung repeatedly through the air with all the force he could muster, each strike carrying a mixture of fear, stubbornness, and growing frustration, yet no matter how hard he tried, he still could not even brush the hem of Damon’s clothes.

Damon moved through every attack with effortless precision.

Sometimes he merely tilted his head slightly.

Sometimes a single step carried him outside the sword’s path entirely.

At other times, he simply shifted his body enough for the strike to miss by the smallest margin possible, almost as though he were deliberately allowing Saffron to feel close before taking that hope away again.

And throughout all of it—

Damon remained untouched.

Not a single drop of sweat clung to his skin.

Not even the dirt from the training grounds stained his clothes.

Compared to Saffron, who had become increasingly disheveled and breathless, Damon looked as though he had done nothing more strenuous than stand there watching.

"Hah—!"

Saffron lunged once more with a frustrated shout, aiming low before twisting the sword upward exactly the way Damon had corrected him earlier.

For the first time—

The attack actually came close.

A few guards watching from the side widened their eyes slightly.

But Damon simply stepped aside at the last possible moment before lightly pressing against Saffron’s shoulder as he passed.

The imbalance instantly ruined the child’s footing.

Saffron stumbled.

Then fell hard onto the ground.

The wooden sword slipped from his hands and rolled across the dirt while heavy breaths escaped him one after another, his small chest rising and falling rapidly as he struggled to even push himself upright again.

His face had reddened completely from exhaustion by now.

And without him even realizing it—

Tears had already gathered within his eyes, glistening faintly along his lashes as he stared down at the dirt beneath him while trying desperately not to cry.

Damon simply looked at him quietly for a moment.

Then he spoke.

"I will spar with you every day while I remain here," he said calmly. "At this exact time. If you can even land a single hit on me—"

Saffron slowly looked up.

Damon paused briefly before a quiet chuckle escaped him.

He turned and began walking away from the sparring grounds casually.

"First land a single hit," he said over his shoulder. "Then we can talk."

Damon walked away from the training grounds at an unhurried pace, the distant sounds of sparring gradually fading behind him as the atmosphere of the manor returned once more to its usual calmness. A few guards and attendants instinctively stepped aside along the corridors the moment they noticed him approaching, lowering their heads respectfully as he passed.

Behind him, Sahira hurried to catch up.

"Young master—"

Her voice came out slightly breathless from rushing again, though this time she slowed herself before fully reaching him. Damon did not stop walking and merely responded with a quiet hum, as though he had already expected she wanted to say something from the moment she started following him.

"Hmm?"

Sahira hesitated immediately after hearing that calm response.

For several steps, she remained silent, clearly struggling with her words before finally speaking again.

"W-why did you act with young master Saffron like that...?"

Damon chuckled softly without looking back.

"And how exactly did I act?"

Sahira lowered her gaze slightly as she tried to explain herself.

"L-like that..." she muttered awkwardly. "A-after what you did for young lady Cecelia... and your recent behavior... i-it looked like..."

Her voice trailed off uncertainly.

Only then did Damon finally stop walking.

He turned back toward her.

Then laughed.

"Haha..."

The sound echoed lightly through the corridor before he spoke again.

"What?" he asked amusedly. "Did you think I suddenly changed or something?"

Sahira visibly flinched at the question, yet after hesitating for a moment longer, she carefully lifted her eyes and took a closer look at Damon’s face.

"N-no... not changed..." she answered softly. "I-it’s just... I thought young master was trying to improve..."

The amusement within Damon’s expression slowly faded after hearing that.

His golden eyes narrowed slightly.

"Poison cures poison," he said calmly.

Sahira blinked in confusion.

"W-what...?"

Damon resumed walking, and Sahira quickly followed after him again while listening carefully.

"Saffron fears me," Damon explained evenly. "Not the kind of fear children have toward strict parents or older siblings... real fear."

His tone remained calm, factual.

"He has already convinced himself that I am someone dangerous. Someone unreasonable. If I suddenly start acting kindly toward him now, he will not trust it."

Sahira listened silently.

Damon continued.

"But repeated exposure changes people," he said. "Fear weakens when the thing causing it stops matching the image inside your head."

He glanced ahead calmly as servants moved aside for them.

"If I spar with him every day, correct him, speak normally to him, and avoid hurting him despite having every opportunity to do so, eventually his instincts will begin contradicting his memories."

Sahira slowly widened her eyes as she listened.

"At first, he will only feel confused," Damon continued. "Then frustrated. Then competitive. The fear will gradually be replaced by habit."

A faint chuckle escaped him again.

"And once someone starts trying to hit you instead of trying to avoid you..."

His gaze sharpened slightly. 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂

"...it means they have already stopped seeing you as a monster."

Sahira fell silent after hearing that explanation, her expression carrying a mixture of surprise and confusion as though she had never imagined someone would think about relationships in such a calculated manner.

Meanwhile, Damon simply kept walking ahead calmly as he said..."Ohh...and stop following me for now....I have some important tasks to do."