Free Web NovelAn hour later, the entire training session concluded.
Bruch walked through each team, leaving brief comments.
When he reached Kosa, he simply said, “You are very talented.” fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com
Kosa remembered that one sentence clearly.
That night, he sat on his dorm bed, his wrist still aching faintly, but he no longer frowned.
Red Tide did not treat him differently because he was a barbarian; they taught real skills, practiced real combat techniques, and even meted out real punishments.
This was a place that truly valued rules.
And he, too, began to want to become a part of these rules.
Kosa took out the “Red Tide Knights Promotion Regulations” from the cloth bag by his bed.
It was distributed during their first discipline class, one for each person. He hadn't taken it seriously then, thinking it was just Imperial rhetoric and regulations.
Now he opened the first page. Each regulation was clearly numbered, with no superfluous words or vague ambiguities.
“All military household children may apply for promotion based on actual combat merits.”
“Those who complete the two-year training camp curriculum and pass the final assessment are considered qualified candidates and can be included in the Red Tide Knights roster.”
“Those with excellent performance may be recommended for entry into the command system, serving as grassroots officers, auxiliary civil officials, or foreign envoys.”
“Under Red Tide law, all registered individuals enjoy equal legal protection, without increase or decrease due to origin, tribe, or native place.”
Kosa read very slowly, going through each rule, as if confirming some answer.
He remembered what his father said before he left: “Forget the past, you are a Red Tide person.”
At the time, he was dismissive, thinking it was merely the compromise of an old man who had given up his tribal pride.
But now, if the rules were real, if promotion was open, if effort could truly make him a real officer.
Then he was not a hostage stripped of everything, but taking the first step on a brand new path.
“Regardless of origin,” he murmured, almost unconsciously, “Then I also have a chance—”
Even starting from scratch, even with barbarian blood, he could become a member of this city.
He suddenly understood that his father was not surrendering, but pushing him towards another battlefield of opportunity.
Training began at six every morning.
Even with Red Tide City's warm houses and geothermal heating, the chill of this snowy land remained.
Especially on the training ground, where frost covered the frozen earth, the echoes of clashing weapons were particularly clear in the morning air.
Kosa was always the first to arrive, never late, and never perfunctory.
He swung his sword more often than others, ran faster than others during laps, and even when his arms trembled during aura training, he refused to stop early.
He wasn't the only smart one, nor the only barbarian youth on whom hopes were pinned.
But he didn't want to just adequately integrate into Red Tide.
He wanted to become the strongest, not relying on anyone's favoritism, not on his father's admonishments, but by climbing the city's ladder step by step himself.
Kosa didn't speak harsh words or seek attention, but in every combat skills test, his performance never fell out of the top three.
In the first practical exercise, he led his team to a complete victory. In the second confrontation assessment, he single-handedly defeated two Imperial youths working together. By the third time, even all the instructors remembered his name.
On a rest day, Kosa and four other outstanding students from Border Guard Village were taken together to the Red Tide Administrative Hall.
This was their first time being allowed inside the tall building of grey stone and dark gold.
The mirror-like clean floor tiles, the copper-riveted wooden doors; every detail exuded a sense of oppression, yet it was hard to pinpoint its source.
They stood in a line, Kosa at the very end.
He had expected an official to give them some encouragement or a lecture, but to his surprise, the legendary Red Tide Lord himself actually appeared before them.
Louis wore a grey everyday uniform with the Red Tide emblem pinned to his chest.
He didn't stand on a high platform, but simply stood quietly before them: “You've worked hard.”
“These past few days, have you gotten used to living here? Is the room warm? Is the food enough?”
He didn't immediately talk about ideals or systems, nor did he first question their loyalty.
Instead, he cared about the most basic things.
The youths below looked at each other, some a little embarrassed, some grinning, some lowering their heads without speaking.
After a moment, a barbarian youth quietly replied, “It's very warm.”
“The food is—quite delicious too.”
Another followed with a nod, his voice even softer: “It's just that the instructor is too fierce.”
Bruch's face darkened, but everyone else laughed, knowing it was a joke.
Louis also smiled: “He just has that face; even I don't dare provoke him when he's not smiling.”
The atmosphere slowly relaxed. A few youths chuckled softly, and even those who had initially stood ramrod straight unconsciously relaxed a bit.
Louis slowly reined in his smile, his tone becoming a little more serious: “I know some of you came voluntarily, and some were persuaded to come.”
“Perhaps you are still wondering if you are here as hostages, or to exchange for food.”
He looked around, saying earnestly:
“But I want to tell you, no. You are not here for anyone else, not for your tribe, nor to please the Empire.”
“You are here for yourselves, for a better future. To ensure your families don't go hungry in winter.”
“In Red Tide, regardless of origin or surname, only one thing determines your status: effort.”
“Whoever trains the hardest, whoever scores the best, will go the furthest.”
“You can return to your villages after three years, bringing knowledge and power, to become overseers. Or you can stay and become a member of Red Tide, becoming a Knight, a craftsman, a civil official.”
“All paths are open, without limits, but how far you go depends on yourselves.”
He paused, then finally said: “Red Tide does not support idlers, but it never lets down someone who is willing to work hard.”
The youths exchanged glances, falling silent for a moment, as if they understood yet didn't quite.
Some looked down at their toes, some's mouths twitched, as if they wanted to say something but held it back.
The most direct reaction came from the youngest one. He whispered, “I—I will work hard.” fгeewёbnoѵel.cσm
Immediately after, another older youth beside him also nodded: “We won't disappoint the adults.”
Their words were clumsy and a bit stammering, but compared to the wary and reserved expressions they wore when they first entered the city, there was now a certain brightness in their eyes.
And Kosa stood at the back of the crowd, looking at the not-so-tall figure in front, his heart warming slightly.
If he truly trained with all his might, he could truly live a different destiny.
Kosa wasn't sure how far he could go, but he was certain he wanted to try.
Just then, a gentle female voice sounded in Kosa's ear.
The youths subconsciously turned to look.
It was a young woman, standing to one side of the Administrative Hall, with a tall stature and elegant attire.
On her Red Tide-style long dress, barbarian totemic patterns were subtly embroidered, and a silver feather amulet hung at her waist.
Her silver-white hair and high-bridged, deep-set features made every youth from the snowy plains recognize her almost at a glance.
Sif, the princess of the Cold Moon Tribe.
A name from the legends of their former tribe, now standing within the Administrative Hall, looking at them with a gentle expression.
Her gaze swept over each person, her tone gentle: “I was once one of you, born in a tribe, never imagining that one day I would stand here.”
“I know that upon first arriving in this city, you must have a lot of unease, confusion, and perhaps even defiance in your hearts.”
“But you don't need to rush to change anything. As long as you are willing to learn and willing to continue, there will always be a place for you here.”
She paused, her eyes earnest: “Red Tide will not look down on you because you are a barbarian, nor will it deprive you of your deserved future because of your tribal origin.”
“If you encounter any unfair treatment in Red Tide, you can come directly to me.”
“Here, no one should be inherently inferior.”
These words were not heavy, yet they were like pebbles dropped into a lake, stirring the emotions of every youth.
Kosa stood in the crowd, looking at the familiar yet strange figure, suddenly feeling speechless.
He didn't shout slogans, nor did he make loud declarations.
He simply slowly lowered his head, tapped his right hand over his heart, and placed his left hand on his chest, performing an old barbarian ritual.
Several youths also followed suit; this was the highest etiquette for the barbarian princess.
After the youths left, silence briefly returned to the room.
Louis stood by the window, looking at the departing figures: “What do you think of these few?”
“They have potential,” Bruch said, hands behind his back. “Especially Kosa. His training record is the most consistent, his combat technique correction speed is fast, and his aura circulation is the most stable. He has hope of advancing to Transcendent.”
Halom nodded in agreement: “They basically wake up, organize their belongings, and follow the schedule on their own. I had them try to mentor new trainees, and their performance was quite good.”
Louis hummed softly, then turned to face the two of them:
“Select a few for Focus on training (focused cultivation) and targeted guidance. Add a basic political affairs course to their curriculum, and give them an opportunity for practical patrol during training.”
“If they persevere, they can become team leaders, instructors, the next Halom.”
Bruch raised an eyebrow: “—Are you planning to have them join the official administration?”
“I want to try,” Louis looked at him. “But the prerequisite is that they are loyal to Red Tide. Not just verbal loyalty, but the kind that won't hesitate or waver at critical moments.”
Sif, who had been silent, walked over and softly added: “Then you must let them know that Red Tide will accept them, not just as tools, nor just as test subjects.”
Her tone was calm, yet it seemed to complete the half of what Louis had left unsaid.
Halom and Bruch quickly replied: “Yes, my Lord.”
Louis casually picked up a thin booklet recording the training camp attendance and asked offhandedly: “Bruch, besides these barbarian trainees, what about the overall cultivation of other Apprentice Knights?”
Bruch was prepared. He took out a roster from his pouch and respectfully handed it over: “It was just compiled, my Lord.”
“According to the dripping blood stone's Detection (detection), as of this month, throughout the Red Tide Territory, including newly joined Knight descendants and some vagrant children, a total of one hundred thirty-nine age-appropriate youths have been confirmed to possess Knight bloodline.”
“Among them, thirty-four have successfully entered the initial stage of aura cultivation and are listed as Junior Apprentice Knights. The rest are currently undergoing basic training.”
Louis nodded: “—Steady progress, no forcing growth, right?”
“No,” Bruch answered decisively. “All are trained in graded progress. For those with slower progress, we have arranged enhanced food and lodging and night classes.”
Halom added: “There are also a few children from Knight families whose performance is not bad, but they receive no policy preferential treatment. They are treated equally with those from commoner and vagrant backgrounds.”
Louis heard this, raised his eyes, and looked at him: “Let them know that advancement depends on ability, not on surname.”
Sif glanced at him, not interrupting, just nodding gently.
Bruch cupped his fists and responded: “Understood.”
Louis closed the roster in his hand and said faintly: “Continue to maintain this.”
After Bruch and Halom withdrew, the study became quiet for a moment.
Louis sat at the desk, reopening the training camp roster. He drew red lines beneath two names in the booklet; these two were the seedlings with Transcendent potential as indicated by the Daily Intelligence System.
He subtly raised an eyebrow, tapping his fingertip on the page.
From the day he set foot in the Northern Territory, he knew that he alone could not change the situation.
Continuously cultivating Apprentice Knights and promoting new forces truly loyal to Red Tide.
This was the most basic and indispensable bargaining chip in this era.
After all, Knights were the ones who could truly determine the battlefield in this world.
Even though Red Tide now possessed new weapons like Magic Bombs, those weapons were ultimately just means.
Those who could operate them were ultimately people.
And in this world dominated by aura and the Transcendent, Knights were the most excellent weapon users.
No matter how calm the Northern Territory appeared on the surface, the Imperial sky had already begun to darken.
Over the past two months, the “keywords” regarding the Imperial Capital in the Daily Intelligence System had become increasingly dense: military ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) faction, church capital flow, prince privately deploying Knights, abnormal motions in the council—these things were happening and would likely conclude with a upheaval even greater than that in the Northern Territory.
“If I can keep to myself, that would be best,” he murmured, “But if not—”
Then Red Tide must also have the qualifications for self-preservation.
His gaze swept over the list, and a faint smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.
In recent years, there had been more than one such Transcendent seedling circled on the roster.
Even if it was just a nascent stage, it already represented that Red Tide was gradually nurturing its own “foundation.”
Suddenly, he thought of something and turned his head to look at his personal guard, Weil, who stood by his side—the only Peak Knight seedling.
“What is your current realm?”
Weil seemed to not have reacted, hesitating for a moment: “Are you asking me, my Lord?”
“Mm.”
Weil's expression was a bit awkward, and he whispered: “High-tier Elite Knight, almost at the limit—I feel like one more step will be Transcendent.”
“You should have said so earlier,” Louis raised an eyebrow.
“I—it's just that you've been busy lately, my Lord, so I thought I'd wait.”
“You really are too honest,” Louis shook his head with a chuckle.
“But don't delay any longer. Come with me to the Shadow Trial Ground.”
Weil was startled: “Are you going, my Lord?”
“Mm, on the way to Dawn Harbor, I'll stop by to see the results.”
Weil straightened his body: “Yes, my Lord.”
