'This cunning fellow, so he's heard.' Lance thought to himself. Then again, it wasn't particularly a secret, so Lance wasn't surprised in any way.
After the pleasantries, the demon lord invited Lance in where they could sit and discuss, after all, Lance never paid such visits just to say hi.
The demon lord soon understood Lance's purpose for visiting, and it turned out to be as always. He simply wished to see how the demons were doing and how developnt was coming along.
It was a relatively quick process, perhaps the only surprising aspect of it being the weapons being forged.
In this world, there was a particular material referred to as dark steel. As the na implied, it was a completely black material that never loses its natural dark colour even after processing, and is several tis tougher than steel. It was a signature weapon for the demon race's elites.
After being able to recover access to the mine, they could now keep crafting with this material.
Lance also visited the soldiers in the training grounds, and after that saw more of their agriculture.
Before the skies darkened, they had finished all they had to do, and only had to rest themselves while they retired for the day. Of course, Lance wasn't surprised when the demon lord tried to pitch him his sister, again.
.
At dawn, Lance and his group prepared to leave. The Demon Lord stood at the gates of his keep, his arms crossed as he watched them ready their mounts.
"You're always welco here, Lord Lance," the Demon Lord said with a feint but firm bow.
Lance nodded with a chuckle. 'Of course… this is my land after all.' He thought to himself.
Without further say, they departed, heading back to the monster capital. They had team quite a detour that took them past the capital, now it was ti to return.
…
The return to the monster capital was calm, but that was bound to be short lived once everyone learned of what had happened. The council had learnt of it all during the eting where Lance explained all that happened and their new alliance with the Godking's kingdom. Though it was shocking news and story, no one was shocked to learn of Lance's strength, it appeared everyone believed him to possess such strength already.
After the eting, Lance made his way to the training grounds where the elite troops were stationed at that mont.
Rikka was the first to spot Lance, rushing towards him imdiately with a firm bow, a firm hand planted on her chest like a salute, her expression calm but proud. "Lord," she said. "You've returned."
Lance nodded, a little surprised seeing the salute. "How is everyone?"
"They've made progress, we did not let you down," Rikka replied. "Maric's unconventional thods were… strange, but effective. We can just say he really enjoy your thorough thods."
As if on cue, Maric appeared, his usual laid-back deanor unchanged. The demon gave Lance a lazy bow and salute just like Rikka, Lance was really curious where they learned to do that. "Lord, you've returned. You should've seen it. They hated at first, but now? They're practically begging for more."
Lance raised an eyebrow. "Begging, huh?"
Lance couldn't help but chuckle drily in his mind thing of his troops in a strange way, after all, who would enjoy such thods… 'I didn't grow a farm of perverts here, did I?'
To inspect their progress so far, Lance asked for them to et him in their usual spot outside the city, and of course, they were to be there before sunrise.
The following morning, just as ordered, they were all gathered on ti. The elite troops, lined up in neat rows, snapped to attention as Lance appeared.
Lance stopped before the troops, his hands clasped behind his back. "Today marks the final stage of your training, at least for now," he announced.
His voice carried across the field, firm yet calm. "You've been pushed to your limits, and I've seen you grow stronger with every passing day. But strength isn't just about swinging a weapon harder or casting a bigger spell. It's about discipline, strategy, and knowing when to act."
A goblin in the back coughed awkwardly, prompting a ripple of suppressed laughter. Lance's sharp gaze zeroed in on the culprit, a younger recruit barely able to hold a straight face.
"You there," Lance called out, pointing at him. "Step forward."
The goblin froze, his comrades stifling chuckles as he reluctantly stepped forward.
"What's your na?" Lance asked, his tone neutral but carrying an edge of amusent.
"K-Kerg, sir," the goblin stamred.
Lance tilted his head. "Kerg, do you find sothing amusing about training?"
"N-no, sir! Just… uh, dust in my throat," Kerg blurted, his face flushing red.
Lance stared at him for a mont before his lips quirked into a faint smile. "Good to know you're paying attention. Now get back in line."
To finish the training, Lance organized a series of mock battles. The troops were split into teams, each tasked with defending a position or attacking an objective. Lance observed from the sidelines, offering occasional critiques but otherwise allowing them to demonstrate what they had learned.
Rikka led one of the defending teams, her commands sharp and efficient. She moved like wind, her strikes precise as she held off wave after wave of attackers.
Maric, anwhile, lounged under a tree nearby, calling out half-hearted advice. "Try not to die, will you?" he shouted lazily, earning a glare from Rikka.
"You could help, you know," Rikka snapped.
"Helping would ruin the point of training, wouldn't it?" Maric replied with a smirk, earning a groan from nearby recruits.
Despite the playful banter, the troops perford admirably, and by the end of the exercises, the battlefield was littered with dulled training weapons, and the troops were drenched in sweat but grinning with satisfaction.
Lance stepped forward, clapping his hands to gather their attention.
"Well done," he said. "You've proven that you're ready for whatever cos next. Your training is officially complete for now."
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