The Second Life of Demon King

Episode 9: Secret Training

Isaac slumped in an old chair near the window covered with thin curtains, his red eyes staring blankly outside. The evening breeze that drifted in brought the fresh scent of the garden located just below his bedroom. He could feel the flow of mana gently circulating around the room, but his body—too fragile, too weak—wasn't capable of grasping it perfectly yet. Even the intensive meditation techniques he had used earlier felt too heavy for his small frame.

"Hhh," he sighed, closing his eyes. Think of something else.

Isaac straightened his back, trying to ignore the pain pressing on his muscles. He had to keep moving, keep practicing. Patience. Patience.

In the silence, his mind returned to the new method he was trying to develop—passive mana absorption. Without movement, without active magic. Just feeling and absorbing the natural energy around him. He had tried this several times, every morning when dawn broke, or when dusk darkened the sky. But it wasn't easy. Each drop of mana he managed to absorb felt like a grain of sand in the middle of a desert—slow and exhausting.

"Why does it always feel so... empty?" he murmured to himself.

Isaac massaged his throbbing temples. This power... it couldn't rely on speed alone. He knew that. But with every passing second, he felt as if he were just wasting time. Each drop of energy he absorbed felt too little. Too slow. Too—not enough.

"If I keep this up, I might die before achieving anything," he thought, a thin smile forming on his lips. Of course, he wouldn't let that happen. But the reality remained. There had to be another way.

Sitting still, Isaac began to take deep breaths, releasing them slowly, calming every part of his body. The gentle outdoor breeze brought in a fresh air, and he felt it, letting the wind flow into his body. Something started to shift—something he couldn't reach before. Mana.

Outside the room, a servant walked cheerfully, unaware that behind the window, the young boy was concentrating all his attention on the invisible flow. Isaac could feel how the air changed, how the flow of energy moved slowly, unstoppable. There it was.

Slowly, he closed his eyes tighter, feeling the increasingly clear vibrations. Something very small, almost imperceptible, yet he could feel it clearly. That was mana. That’s how demons absorbed it.

Isaac's hand tightened around the hem of his nightgown. Focused on his stomach. Stay calm. His heartbeat started to regulate, following a rhythm he had set for himself.

Suddenly, a voice broke the silence.

"Isaac! Wake up now! It's morning," a servant’s voice called from outside the room.

Isaac took a deep breath and slowly opened his eyes. With a perfectly lazy expression, he stood up and walked to the door, hiding his frustration. When the door opened, the young servant looked at him with a confused gaze. "Is everything alright, Young Master Isaac?"

Isaac lazily nodded, then turned toward the vanity table, letting his body appear extremely tired. "Yes, I’m fine. Maybe I just slept too much," he said with a hoarse voice, trying to sound like a child reluctant to wake up in the morning.

The servant just shook her head and walked out. Isaac ignored her, his eyes returning to the garden. He still had to continue his training.

The day passed. As usual, Isaac pretended to be uninterested in the books scattered across the table, sitting still in the living room, often seen sleeping with his hands under his head. But every night, when the world slept and everything seemed peaceful, he returned to his room and started training. Regulating his breath, imagining the flow of mana circulating in his body. Absorbing it slowly, bit by bit, until he could feel it throughout his body.

However, frustration was never far away. Sometimes, his body trembled, sometimes his head throbbed. He even felt as though he might faint several times. But he knew—this was not the time to give up.

Each drop of energy I manage to absorb is a step closer to my goal, he thought while looking at his trembling small hands. One step closer to power.

In the stillness of the night, Isaac felt something different. Something was coming. The mana flow around the room felt agitated, as if something was seeping into it. His eyes opened, sharp, detecting the unexpected change. There was someone outside the room.

Suddenly, the door creaked open slightly and a soft voice was heard. "Young Master Isaac?" The voice was very familiar—Nam, the servant who almost never spoke much to Isaac.

Isaac quickly regulated his breath, hiding the surprise that had briefly crossed his face. "Yes?" he replied softly, slipping back into the mask of the lazy child he usually wore.

Nam stood at the door, hesitant. "I... just wanted to make sure you’re alright, Young Master Isaac." A worried expression was clearly visible on her face. "Are you not feeling feverish?"

Isaac smiled faintly, though his body still felt weak. This is what I wanted. Everyone thinks I'm just a weak child. "No need to worry," he replied casually, "I just... feel a bit sleepy."

Nam stared at him for a moment before nodding and leaving the room. Isaac took a deep breath and lay back down. "Damn. That almost blew everything."

Slowly, he refocused on the energy around his body. "I have to keep training. No time to stop."

Isaac stared at the large windowpane that reflected the soft light from the candle mounted on the wall. That night, the dinner party at the Ackerman residence was in full swing, sparkling with elegance. The sounds of laughter and the low hum of conversations filled the air, creating an atmosphere that was warm and familiar. Though Isaac appeared to be one of the cheerful children, inside him there was another wave—an unseen desire to survive, to hide, and to wait for the right moment.

The party was adorned with noble children from various families, each introducing themselves with graceful poise and confidence. However, Isaac's attention was fixed on one figure he could not ignore: Edgar Vermillion.

With his jet-black hair neatly styled and piercing emerald green eyes, Edgar drew the gaze of almost everyone in the room. Unlike Isaac, who often appeared quiet and almost invisible, Edgar stood in the middle of the room like a lion ready to pounce. His arrogance could not be concealed, even from a distance.

"Isaac, you came too?" Edgar approached with a sneer. He mingled with a group of young people chatting. "I hope you're ready to show what you can do. There's a little test tonight."

Isaac turned, not displaying any excessive expression. "A test?" he asked casually, though inside, a lump of worry was growing.

Edgar grinned. "A mana summoning test. We'll see who can produce the brightest light orb. You know, just a little thing for someone your age."

Isaac felt his throat go dry in an instant. In front of Edgar, he didn't want to show any hint of tension he was feeling. He stepped closer to the center of the room, where a long table covered with luxurious dishes now became the backdrop for their "battle."

"Not difficult at all," Isaac said in a low tone, concealing the uncertainty that plagued his mind. "You go first."

Edgar nodded, his body movement so graceful as he gathered mana within himself. A glowing light orb appeared in his hand in an instant. The light hung in the air brilliantly, almost taunting Isaac to reveal a greater ability.

"Like this," Edgar said, looking at Isaac with an intimidating gaze. "Do you think you can do better than this?"

Isaac took a deep breath, exerting the little mana he had left. He could feel it—there was a hidden power, just waiting to be released. But this human body was limited. Every drop of mana he absorbed felt like a grain of sand in a vast desert storm.

Deliberately, Isaac only summoned a small amount of mana. A tiny light orb appeared in his hand, flickering and dimming as though powerless. A few seconds later, the orb disappeared, leaving only darkness on his palm.

"Hah..." Isaac pretended to clench his fist in disappointment, though inside, he felt suffocated by the tension. "I guess... I failed."

Edgar's smile spread, but this time, there was something different in his gaze—sharper, more calculating. Isaac could feel Edgar's eyes not missing a thing, observing his every movement.

"Is that so?" Edgar asked, his voice tinged with deeper curiosity. "I think you're hiding something."

Isaac lowered his gaze, briefly closing his eyes, then shrugged. "Maybe," he answered briefly, trying to keep his tone flat and expressionless. "I just felt like I couldn’t do more."

Yet, despite Isaac pretending not to care, he could feel the tension building around him, like a wind picking up speed. Edgar—with all his arrogance—would continue to push, continue to search for an opening to dig deeper.

Isaac took a step back, creating space. "Don't get too excited, Edgar. This is just a game."

"Of course." Edgar looked at Isaac with an even more intense stare, as if trying to uncover something hidden. "But you know, nothing is more interesting than this game."

Isaac took a deep breath, trying to calm his restless mind. "I need to be more careful. The closer he gets, the more he notices, the more dangerous it becomes."

Suddenly, a voice from the side caught Isaac’s attention. "Isaac, you look a bit... unenthusiastic," said Lysandra, a noble girl with blonde hair who always threw lighthearted jokes. "Are you sure that’s all you can do?"

Isaac stared at her for a moment before giving a slight smile. "Seems like it's not the right time to show everything, right?" he answered with a slightly teasing tone.

Lysandra laughed softly, seemingly unsuspecting. However, Isaac knew that this was a much larger test than it seemed. Edgar, obsessed with the challenge, even if he didn’t realize it, was starting to open doors that couldn't be closed again.

Isaac thought to himself, What will happen if he continues to press? However, there was no definitive answer—only one choice he could make: wait, avoid, and plan how to face this threat.

Behind the calm smile, Isaac felt pressure he couldn't escape. What does one do when someone begins to smell the scent of lies?