Night had fully settled over the plains of Merch, the chill creeping into every tent and crack in the walls. The battlefield, once littered with the bodies of the fallen and dripping with demon blood, now lay eerily silent. The hills of corpses had vanished through Daniel's warp portal, leaving only mud, ash, and the faint coppery scent of mana in the air. Soldiers of the kingdom moved cautiously, dragging supplies, tending to wounds, and murmuring in disbelief at the events they had witnessed.
Even among the seasoned knights, awe and shock lingered like a stubborn shadow. Conversations shifted from strategy to recounting the feats of the Red Flags Battalion. They spoke in hushed tones about the precise coordination, the unyielding courage, and the terrifying endurance of the warriors who had struck down hordes of demons with almost inhuman efficiency.
"I can't believe what I saw," one soldier whispered to his companion. "That Red Flags warrior… he kept fighting even when—when his guts were almost falling to the ground!"
The words caused the group to freeze, eyes widening in horror and disbelief.
"One hand holding his own intestines, the other still swinging his sword…" another added. "For God's sake, those guys are really strong."
The younger recruits shivered, imagining themselves in that same position, and admiration grew with every retelling. Tales of bravery, of soldiers who refused to yield even as blood poured from their bodies, spread like wildfire, instilling both fear and awe. These stories were whispered by campfires and shouted across tents, leaving everyone with the same lingering thought: the Red Flags were no ordinary soldiers—they were legends, walking the boundary between humanity and something more.
Amid this awe, admiration for Arielle, the Goblin Slayer of House Elvaren, spread as well. Her deadly precision, courage under fire, and beauty had captured the attention of many soldiers during the battle, and now rumors of her valor and charm circulated through the camp. Even those injured or exhausted could not help but discuss her, comparing notes on her tactics and daring maneuvers. Her presence had become symbolic: a reminder that skill, courage, and grace could exist side by side, and that heroism had a face the human soldiers could look up to.
As discussions swirled, the alliance between the Kingdom of Merch and the Red Flags Battalion became more tangible. Work had already begun on constructing a teleport gate, a symbol of political cooperation and mutual benefit. The gate promised faster communication, trade, and the strengthening of both forces. Knightfall, already a center of power, would now serve as a hub for human unification under the Red Flags' leadership, consolidating the kingdoms' military, economic, and magical resources.
Even amid these practical developments, speculation about Daniel lingered. Whispers arose that the young general—the unseen strategist who had orchestrated the battlefield and controlled the warp portal—was gaining the attention of Prince Eloween. Rumors suggested the princess, beloved and admired by the kingdom, had begun spending time near him, which sparked heated discussions among the soldiers. Some debated whether it was politics, personal admiration, or something deeper, and others simply watched in quiet concern. Yet no one could deny the fascination surrounding the boy who commanded such power, even when his abilities remained largely hidden.
The conversation shifted back to feats of strength and endurance. "Did you see the way they moved?" one veteran asked. "Precision, timing, and yet they never hesitated. That one warrior—he fought on even when it looked like he wouldn't survive. And he did it for everyone else, not for glory or recognition."
Young recruits nodded eagerly, hearts pounding at the story. It was an example of what the Warrior Pill could inspire. Only Red Flags warriors were permitted to use it; the pill expelled fear, giving soldiers the courage to push past pain and exhaustion, yet it came with consequences. Overuse dulled emotion and interfered with the natural development of the mana core—the internal organ necessary for cultivation. Without a fully developed core, a warrior could never progress past certain ranks, nor gain elemental abilities like fire, ice, or lightning. Those who advanced could reach the fifth rank, developing an elemental affinity; by the tenth rank, or Qwii level, they could merge with their element, amplifying their abilities further.
Beyond that, warriors could ascend to the Vast Realm, gaining the capacity to destroy a city with their strongest attacks. The pinnacle, the God Realm, granted power so immense that one could level an entire kingdom in two days. Yet even these ranks had exceptions. Warriors with god restrictions or pacts—like Daniel—possessed black cores that gathered mana and converted it into dark pact energy, making them invisible to ordinary mana sensing. They relied on agility, strategy, and weapon mastery rather than sheer elemental destruction. Daniel, as the only known wielder of this power, remained a figure shrouded in mystery, admired, feared, and respected without most even knowing the extent of his abilities.
The soldiers discussed these rules and limitations in quiet awe, connecting each story to their own understanding of strength and survival. The legend of the warrior holding his own guts became a symbol of what could be achieved when fear was expelled, when skill and courage converged, and when a warrior's determination refused to yield even in the face of death.
Meanwhile, Princess Eloween's safety and the rumors of her interactions with Daniel added a human, almost personal element to the battlefield's aftermath. Soldiers debated quietly, yet respectfully, how these connections might influence political alliances and the unification of human kingdoms. Many saw the combination of military might, leadership, and personal charisma as the perfect foundation for consolidating the human continent under a single banner—the Red Flags Battalion as both military and political spine.
At night, the campfire burned low, reflecting the stars above. Soldiers patched wounds, shared rations, and allowed brief moments of laughter, though no one truly relaxed. Wolves patrolled the perimeter, vigilant and restless. Some of the younger recruits stared at the flames, imagining themselves one day in the ranks of the Red Flags, wielding blades, overcoming fear, and mastering their own mana cores.
The tales of that battlefield—the warp portal, the hills of corpses, the Red Flags' endurance, Arielle's bravery, and Daniel's unseen guidance—formed a collective memory. They would carry it forward as inspiration, a blueprint for courage, and a standard for loyalty. This night would be remembered not only for survival but for the unification that had begun, the first seeds of trust between the kingdoms, and the first lessons in the cultivation path that awaited any human willing to rise above fear, weakness, and mortality.
And somewhere, unseen in the shadows, Daniel watched over it all, his presence felt only in the minds of the battalion. His black core remained hidden from the world, his strategy precise, his power quietly shaping the future of the human continent. Soldiers whispered, young hearts dreamed, and even princes and princesses found themselves in awe—not of titles, but of what strength, endurance, and unyielding will could accomplish.
For now, the Kingdom of Merch slept, the battlefield quiet, and the camp alive with cautious optimism. Yet the whispers of monsters, the distant threats beyond the borders, and the ever-growing influence of Daniel's power ensured that peace remained fragile. The human unification arc had begun—but it was only the first phase, and far greater challenges lay ahead.