Han's new life under the Gremory clan was nothing like his previous existences.
He wasn't a pawn to be sacrificed, a cog in a cosmic machine, or a soldier to be thrown into a pointless war.
He was a ward, a guest, and a student.
His days were no longer a desperate fight for survival but a structured, almost peaceful routine.
He was now living in the Gremory territory, a place that was a stark contrast to the Neberius clan's lands.
The Gremory castle wasn't a cold, menacing fortress, but a grand, elegant estate surrounded by sprawling, lush gardens.
Sunlight streamed through tall, arched windows, illuminating polished marble floors and ancient tapestries.
The air smelled of old paper, fresh flowers, and the faint, sweet scent of magic.
It was a place of warmth and life, a stark contrast to the sterile, oppressive environment he'd escaped.
His first few weeks were a blur of training and study.
He was under the tutelage of Hanekage, who was not just a powerful devil but also a patient and knowledgeable mentor.
Hanekage, with a smile that could disarm even the most hardened cynic, began teaching Han to understand and control his new powers as a Devil Nekoshou.
"The Nekomata race,"
Hanekage explained one afternoon in a sun-drenched training hall,
"Is unique. Their power was not derived from pure demonic energy like most devils. It was tied to their emotions, their instincts, their very being. It is wild, raw, and incredibly potent."
Han listened intently, his tail flicking with focus.
Hanekage had brought in a number of magical tomes and scrolls, each filled with intricate diagrams and archaic texts about the Nekomata.
Han spent hours poring over them, devouring information like a starving man.
He learned about Youjutsu, the unique magic of the Nekoshou, and how it was connected to their inner spirit.
He learned about Senjutsu, the power to sense and manipulate natural energy, a rare ability among devils.
Hanekage wasn't just teaching him to use his powers; he was teaching him to understand himself.
The training wasn't about brute force but about self-control, about channeling his emotions into his power instead of letting them consume him.
He practiced meditation to calm his mind and Youjutsu to bend and shape magical energy to his will.
He learned to create small, condensed balls of energy, to shape them into blades, and to manipulate fire.
His progress was rapid, a testament to his innate potential and his past lives of brutal training.
One evening, as he was training alone in the garden, a small, white-haired girl with a defiant look and a black tail approached him.
It was Kuroka, one of the two girls he had seen in the Neberius clan's lab.
He froze, his heart pounding in his chest. She was free. His promise had been kept.
"You're the one,"
She said, her voice surprisingly firm for her age.
"You're the one who ran."
Han didn't know what to say. He expected anger, resentment. He had, after all, left them behind.
But her eyes held no anger. Only a quiet curiosity.
"My parents are free, too. And my sister, Shirone. Hanekage-san came and got us."
"I'm glad,"
Han said, his voice a low growl.
Kuroka's expression softened.
"You left to save yourself, didn't you? I saw you."
She came closer, her small hand reaching out.
"It's okay. I would have done the same. We were too weak to help ourselves. But you… you were strong enough to run. And because you did, Hanekage-san found us."
Her words were a balm to the guilt he hadn't even realized he was carrying.
He had always been so focused on his own survival that he'd forgotten what it felt like to be a part of something bigger.
He was a testament to their suffering, a beacon that had led to their rescue.
He was no longer just a failed experiment; he was a symbol of hope.
"Thank you,"
Kuroka said simply.
"For being strong."
Han found himself spending more time with Kuroka and Shirone.
Shirone, now living under the name Koneko Toujou, was quiet and reserved, her past trauma leaving her wary of everyone and everything.
But with Han, she was different. She saw him not as a powerful being but as a fellow survivor, a kindred spirit.
They spent hours together in the gardens, Shirone showing him her favorite places to hide and Han teaching her basic self-defense.
Their bond was a silent, understanding one, forged in the shared fire of their past.
As the weeks turned into months, Han's training progressed.
He learned to control his Senjutsu, to draw in the natural energy of the world around him.
He could feel the pulse of the earth, the rustle of the leaves, the flow of the air.
It was an ethereal power, one that required a calm mind and a patient heart.
It was a far cry from the brutal, no-nonsense fighting style of his Hakuda, but it complemented it perfectly.
He was a weapon of both grace and brutal efficiency, a duality that made him unpredictable and dangerous.
One day, Hanekage led Han into a private training room, a sterile, white space with no distractions.
"Han,"
He said, his voice serious,
"Your training is complete. You have mastered the basics of your power. But there is one more thing you need to understand."
Hanekage gestured to the center of the room, where a single, glowing red stone rested on a pedestal.
"This is a Power Source. It's a pure, concentrated form of demonic energy. Most devils use this to replenish their strength, to push their limits. But for a Nekoshou, it's different. Your power isn't about brute force; it's about control. A pure demonic power source would corrupt your Youjutsu, making it unstable. It would turn your wild, raw power into something… ugly."
He handed Han a black, pulsating orb, a corrupted Power Source.
"This is a corrupted Power Source. It's what the Neberius clan used in their experiments. They tried to turn you into a weapon, a being of pure, unbridled malice. They tried to force your wild power into a cage, to corrupt it."
Han took the orb. The moment his hands touched it, he felt a wave of cold, chaotic energy course through his body.
It was a sickening feeling, a foul taste in his mouth.
He could feel the memories of the other failed experiments, the echoes of their pain and despair.
He dropped the orb with a shudder.
"This is what you escaped,"
Hanekage said, his voice soft.
"This is what you refused to become. You were their failed experiment, but to Lord Sirzechs, you are a success. You are living proof that even in the face of such darkness, there is a path to light. You chose to survive, and in doing so, you chose to be more than a monster."
Han looked at the orb, his mind clear.
He had seen it all, felt it all. The pain, the suffering, the cruelty of the Neberius clan. And he had survived it.
He had chosen not to become a tool of vengeance but a vessel for justice.
He had a purpose now. Not to just survive, but to live. To use his power not for destruction but for protection. He would protect his new family, his new home.
He would be the strong one, the one who didn't run away.
He would be the one who stood his ground and fought for what was right.
A new chapter of his life was about to begin, and for the first time, he was ready for it.
He was no longer just a failed experiment, but a person with a purpose, a past, and a future.
He was Han, the Devil Nekoshou of the Gremory clan, and he would not be defeated.