The nobles arrived in City Red Flags the way they always did.
With pride.
Carriages rolled through the outer gates bearing sigils polished to mirror-bright perfection. Mana-lit banners fluttered from polished wood and enchanted steel. Guards in tailored armor stepped down first, scanning for threats that did not exist.
The city welcomed them anyway.
The gates opened without inspection delays. The streets were clean. Too clean. Stonework fitted so precisely it made veteran architects uneasy. Patrols passed at regular intervals—not in ostentatious formations, but with quiet efficiency.
No one stared.
No one bowed.
That unsettled the nobles more than hostility ever could.
"Interesting," Lord Halvren of the East March murmured, leaning from his carriage. "No crowds."
His wife sniffed. "They know better than to gawk."
But as they moved deeper into the city, pride slowly gave way to confusion.
Merchants negotiated without raising voices. Warriors walked past in plain cloaks, their steps heavy with restrained power. Children trained openly in courtyards—moving with discipline that bordered on unnatural for their age.
And above it all—
Safety.
No demonic alarms.No panic wards flaring.No fear.
A noble from the southern towns laughed. "All this fuss for a fortified trade hub?"
Another nodded. "Impressive, but nothing that requires legends."
They did not notice the trap.
Not yet.
The estates Daniel had prepared for them were exquisite.
Wide halls. Reinforced walls disguised as marble. Mana channels hidden beneath artful engravings. Guards who did not swear fealty to bloodlines—but to the city itself.
The prices were astronomical.
And paid without hesitation.
Pride demanded it.
Contracts were signed. Temporary ownership secured. Nobles congratulated themselves for "outmaneuvering" rivals by securing property early.
They did not realize they had just volunteered to bleed gold into Daniel's system indefinitely.
Nor did they understand that every contract placed them under city jurisdiction—absolute and irreversible.
They were too busy being amused.
The demonic beasts tested the city within a week.
A roaming horde veered unexpectedly toward the outer trade roads—three hundred strong, corrupted by mana storms.
The nobles panicked.
City Red Flags did not.
A single horn sounded.
Not loud.
Measured.
The response was immediate.
Gates sealed. Civilians redirected. Warriors emerged—not screaming, not boasting. Formations locked into place with mechanical precision.
From the walls, the nobles watched.
The horde never reached the city.
They died outside the perimeter.
Efficiently.
Brutally.
Cleanly.
No desperate last stands. No costly heroics. The beasts were dismantled like a problem already solved.
Lord Halvren swallowed. "That… that was fast."
A nearby merchant chuckled. "You get used to it."
That night, the nobles slept soundly for the first time in years.
And something inside them softened.
Naturally, the next step was obvious.
Their children.
"If this city truly values strength," Lady Verena said confidently, "then my son belongs in their academy."
Others agreed.
Applications flooded in.
Lineage was emphasized. Wealth implied. Influence hinted.
The Academy responded with silence.
Then rejection.
Again.
And again.
A noble father slammed his fist on a polished desk. "Do they know who I am?"
The registrar met his gaze calmly. "Yes."
That only made it worse.
The truth became clear slowly—and painfully.
The academy did not want their children.
Not because they were weak.
But because they were soft.
The toughest recruits were not noble-born.
They were orphans. Refugees. Survivors. Children who had lost everything and kept moving anyway.
Kids with nothing left to live for—
Except purpose.
The most recent recruitment caused whispers even among the elders.
It was the Mawaazi Brothers who found them.
Near the abandoned villages of Varreth.
Ruins half-swallowed by forest and mana corruption.
Two children.
A blind girl.
And her older brother.
The first sparring demonstration left the arena silent.
The girl—Zuuko—stood barefoot on cracked stone. Her eyes were clouded, unfocused.
Yet when opponents moved—
She moved first.
Every strike avoided by the width of a breath. Every counter precise enough to make veteran instructors hesitate. Her blade never wavered. Her footwork never broke rhythm.
"She's blind," someone whispered.
"No," another muttered. "She sees differently."
Her brother, Zayoon, was her opposite.
Big. Solid. Power coiled into every movement. Where Zuuko flowed, he anchored. Where she slipped past attacks, he crushed them head-on.
They fought together without speaking.
Perfect timing.
Perfect trust.
The Mawaazi Brothers only laughed.
"We found something fun," one of them reported later.
Miimi brought the report personally.
Daniel and Beth were reviewing battalion readiness when she entered, expression unreadable.
"You're going to like this," Miimi said.
Beth perked up. "That's never a good sign."
Miimi placed the file down. "Two recruits. Exceptional."
Daniel scanned it silently.
Blind girl. Precision-based combat. Mana sensitivity beyond measured scales.Brother. Abnormal physical reinforcement. Pain tolerance extreme.
"They were raised by an old man," Miimi continued. "No records. No lineage. He found them abandoned and trained them himself."
Beth leaned over Daniel's shoulder. "Near Varreth?"
"Yes," Miimi said softly. "Near where demons pass most often."
Daniel closed the file.
"They survived there," he said.
Miimi nodded. "More than survived. They hunted."
Silence stretched.
Then Daniel spoke.
"Approve them for superior training."
Beth's eyes widened slightly. "That means—"
"They enter Fort Knightfall," Daniel finished.
Miimi hesitated. "You're aware of the precedent."
Daniel looked up.
"No noble," he said calmly, "has ever entered Fort Knightfall."
Beth smiled faintly. "Except me."
"And Maria," Daniel added.
Miimi exhaled. "You're certain?"
Daniel's gaze hardened. "If they are what this report says… keeping them outside would be wasteful."
He stood.
"Prepare the fort."
The rules of Fort Knightfall were absolute.
Only those who passed the academy's highest examinations could approach its gates. Only true warriors of the Red Flags Banner were permitted entry.
No exceptions.
No bribes.
No titles.
The nobles learned this the hard way.
Rumors spread that two children—common-born—had been allowed into the fort.
Outrage followed.
"How dare they—"
"What about my son—"
"Unacceptable—"
The complaints never reached Daniel.
They died in bureaucratic silence.
Zuuko and Zayoon crossed the bridge into Fort Knightfall without ceremony.
Zuuko paused at the threshold.
Her head tilted.
"This place…" she murmured. "It's loud."
Zayoon frowned. "I don't hear anything."
She smiled faintly. "I do."
From the walls above, Daniel watched them enter.
Beth joined him. "They don't look afraid."
"They shouldn't be," Daniel replied. "This place is honest."
Miimi folded her arms. "You're changing the balance faster than the nobles realize."
Daniel's lips curved slightly.
"That's the point."
Below them, the Red Flags Banner fluttered in the wind.
The nobles thought they had entered a city.
They hadn't noticed—
They had stepped into a system.
And it was already deciding who mattered next.