The air in the Kingdom of Merch had begun to hum with rumors. Everywhere—from the cobblestone streets of Knightfall to the newly established Red Flags camp at the edge of the city—people whispered about the battalion, about the soldiers who had survived impossible battles, and about the strange, unseen figure who directed them all. Daniel's presence was subtle, but his influence spread through every layer of society.
In the merchant districts, shopkeepers debated in hushed tones. "Did you hear?" one said, polishing a dagger. "They say the Red Flags warriors fought while their guts were almost falling out. And yet, they stood. They killed demons with nothing but determination and skill."
A boy at the stall, barely sixteen, looked up, eyes wide. "For God's sake… those guys are incredible. I want to join them. I want to be that strong." His voice carried the spark of ambition.
By the castle, nobles met behind closed doors, sipping wine and exchanging wary glances. The alliance with the Red Flags had brought teleport gates into Merch, connecting the kingdom to City Knightfall. Trade flourished, resources flowed, and the army's strength surged. Yet envy and suspicion lingered.
"They're overstepping," a young duke said, voice tight. "Red Flags battalion soldiers are being trained from children as young as twelve. They take the courageous, the determined, and they forge them into powerhouses. Meanwhile, the princes and princesses… they spend more time near Daniel than they should. Everyone is talking. What's he planning?"
The princess, Eloween, though careful and composed, could not escape the whispers. Many assumed her admiration for Daniel was political courtesy, but some speculated otherwise. The princess' closeness to him had become fodder for stories—quiet tales of trust, guidance, and perhaps something more.
At the Red Flags camp, the young recruits were growing restless with excitement and competition. The ones who had shown exceptional courage during the combat trials were singled out, observed carefully, and evaluated for elite training. Those with raw talent and high fighting spirit were earmarked to be sent to City Knightfall once the teleport gates were completed, a place where mentorship would be intensive, cultivation refined, and resources plentiful.
Other recruits remained at the camp. Their instruction was slower, measured, but no less important. They trained in smaller groups, building stamina, honing skill, and learning to awaken their mana cores under the vigilant guidance of Arrielle and Maria. These students had a warning always whispered in their ears: if a mana core did not develop by the age of twenty, their potential to cultivate beyond ordinary skill would be forever limited. They would remain soldiers, capable and disciplined, but unable to ascend to the heights of elemental mastery.
The first attempts at Qwii-level elemental awakening had begun. Only a handful of the most talented could approach this level, where the soul harmonizes fully with a chosen element. Fire flickered in the hands of a seventeen-year-old recruit; wind whispered across the arms of another. Some succeeded in minor harmonization, gaining temporary control over elements, while others were forced to retreat, exhausted, and chastened by failure.
"Focus," Maria commanded during one session. "If your core resists, you are fighting yourself. Elemental awakening is not brute force. It is balance, patience, and mastery. One misstep, and your core may collapse. One lapse, and the strength you could have gained is lost."
Even under these pressures, excitement rippled through the camp. Recruits told stories of the Red Flags' legendary feats: warriors who had fought without fear, who had taken the most dangerous missions, who could hold entire battlefields in their hands. Tales of courage inspired others to endure, to push beyond pain, to confront their own limits.
Meanwhile, the kingdom itself was adjusting to this new era. The teleport gates had revolutionized trade and mobility. Merch' nobles, now aligned with the Red Flags, found themselves part of a broader network, their influence intertwined with the battalion's rising authority. Neighboring states watched with caution. Some sent spies, others envoys, all curious about the source of Red Flags' discipline, their cultivation knowledge, and the hidden figure behind it all.
At night, under the moonlit training grounds, the elite recruits—those destined for City Knightfall—practiced silently. Their movements were precise, their mana cores glowing faintly in rhythm with their breaths. Arrielle and Maria observed from above, ensuring that fear did not cloud judgment and that each strike reflected balance rather than chaos.
"Even if you are defeated in a duel," Arrielle reminded a trembling recruit, "we select those who fight with spirit, not arrogance. Courage, persistence, and heart matter more than skill alone. Remember, a noble child may beat a peasant once, but if the peasant's will is stronger, they have already won."
Daniel's unseen presence extended through Vax, monitoring the development of every mana core, every flicker of elemental energy. He cataloged courage, resolve, and potential, silently marking those worthy of higher cultivation. His strategy was clear: the strongest, bravest, and most determined would form the backbone of a unified human army under Red Flags guidance.
Whispers spread among the younger students about the Red Flags warrior who had fought while holding his own guts with one hand, still swinging his blade with the other. "For God's sake, those guys are really strong," one said. Admiration mixed with ambition; every young recruit now carried a spark of inspiration, a personal goal to reach the levels they had only heard of.
Beyond the camp, unknown eyes observed. Spies, scouts, and rival kingdoms' sorcerers took note of the changes in Merch. The growing influence of Red Flags, the careful mentorship of young cultivators, and the seemingly invisible hand that guided them all had not gone unnoticed. Soon, the human continent would learn that a force was rising—a force capable of unifying kingdoms under one banner, powered not by conquest alone, but by the cultivation of skill, spirit, and elemental mastery.
By the end of the month, the teleport gates were complete. The first wave of elite recruits departed for City Knightfall, their excitement tempered by anticipation. Those who remained at the camp returned to their rigorous training, aware that one misstep could bar them from advancement. Yet even as sweat ran down their faces and bruises lined their limbs, their eyes held a single, unwavering thought: they would awaken, they would grow, and they would join the ranks of the Red Flags' unstoppable force.
Daniel remained unseen, a shadow at the edges of every field and hall. Every decision, every selection, every warning planted in the minds of his recruits was a piece of a larger plan. His empire was not built with banners or proclamations, but with blood, courage, and the cultivation of the next generation. And as whispers of power spread across the continent, one truth became clear to anyone who watched closely: the human world was quietly reshaping itself, and the Red Flags battalion was at its center.