An hour later, the entire training session ended.
Bruch passed each squad in turn, leaving brief comments.
When he reached Kosa, he said only, "You have real talent."
It was just one sentence, but Kosa remembered it clearly.
That evening, he sat on his dormitory bed. His wrist still ached faintly, but he no longer frowned.
Red Tide had not treated him differently because he was a Barbarian. They taught real skills, trained for real combat, and even their punishments were real.
This was a place that truly respected its rules.
And somehow, he had begun... to want to be part of those rules.
Kosa took the Red Tide Knight Promotion Regulations out of the cloth bag beside his bed.
They had each received a copy in their first discipline class. He had thought little of it at the time, dismissing it as nothing but the Empire's platitudes and regulations.
Now he opened the first page. Every provision was clearly numbered, without pointless verbosity or ambiguity.
All children of military households may apply for promotion on the strength of their combat merits.
Those who complete the two-year training camp course and pass the final assessment shall be deemed qualified candidates and may be entered on the roster of the Red Tide Knights.
Those with outstanding results may be recommended for entry into the command structure, serving as junior officers, assistants to civil officials, or envoys stationed abroad.
Under Red Tide Law, all registered residents enjoy equal legal protection, without distinction based on birth, tribe, or place of origin.
Kosa read slowly, one provision at a time, as though confirming an answer.
He remembered what his father had told him before he left: "Forget the past. You're a man of Red Tide now."
At the time, he had disagreed. He had