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After the third and final test, all the final recruits were selected. Interestingly, not a single one of the chosen members had previously been part of the Caion Division.

While this saved the trouble of recruiting additional members, it also highlighted one undeniable fact: archers were a rare breed.

“I can see now why archers are specifically selected from support divisions,” Damian mused.

There was a world of difference between simply firing arrows in the general direction of the enemy and hitting the target with pinpoint accuracy.

“Damian, a man named Sren has requested an audience,” Dianal informed him.

“Sren? Oh, right.”

It took Damian a moment to recall, but the name soon clicked—it was the guy who had complained during the first test.

“Did he fail?”

“…Yes.”

“I see.”

Damian could already guess why Sren wanted to meet. He briefly considered ignoring the request but eventually nodded toward Dianal.

Soon after, Sren entered Damian’s office.

“Thank you for granting me this audience. But I must ask, why was I disqualified?”

“Weren’t you given an explanation?”

“I wasn’t satisfied with it.”

Sren’s eyes blazed with barely concealed anger, despite his polite tone. His words might have been formal, but his burning gaze betrayed his frustration.

Damian smirked and glanced at Sren’s test scores on the file in front of him.

“Let’s see… You barely passed the first test. One hour and eighteen minutes in the second test. And in the third test… a mess.”

The third test had focused on speed, reflexes, and agility.

Unfortunately for Sren, his performance had been far below that of the other successful candidates.

After scanning the report, Damian looked up. Sren asked defiantly, “Isn’t the most important skill for an archer division excellent archery?”

“True. But even in archery, you ranked at the bottom compared to those who passed.”

“That’s…!”

“Bad luck, is that what you’re thinking?”

Damian had dealt with plenty of people like this before—those who refused to acknowledge their own shortcomings, convinced that the world should revolve around them.

Normally, Damian wouldn’t have wasted any more time on him, but…

This might be a good opportunity to set an example for the others.

Damian abruptly stood up, causing Sren to flinch. He motioned for Sren to follow him.

They soon reached the area where the newly selected archers were gathered. Pointing to one of them, Damian called out, “Paul, come here.”

“…Yes.”

Paul, with his usual calm demeanor, stepped forward. Damian turned to Sren.

“You said archery is the most important skill, right?”

“…That’s correct.”

“Then, let’s have a little contest. You’ll shoot against him. Five shots total, since I’m sure everyone’s tired. Paul will go first. If you win, I’ll give you a spot on the team.”

Damian then glanced at the bow in Sren’s hand.

“What are you willing to wager? How about that bow you’re carrying?”

It was a fine-looking bow, after all.

“I’ll allow you to use it in the test. If you lose, I expect you’ll have nothing to say.”

“…Fine.”

With Sren’s agreement, Damian and the others moved toward the hill where the targets were set up.

The wind was picking up as the day began to dim, with the sun setting in the distance. Damian glanced at Paul and Sren.

“Let’s get started. Paul, you shoot first.”

“Understood.”

Paul calmly readied the bow Damian had given him.

Krrk!

He drew the arrow, his expression focused as he aimed carefully.

Despite the strong winds blowing over the hill, Paul took his time to align his shot and then released the arrow.

Thwip!

Whizzzzz!

The arrow sliced through the wind with incredible speed, powered by Paul’s tighter grip on the string to increase its momentum.

As a result, the arrow flew straight and true, piercing the target with a heavy ‘thud’.

Flap!

The red flag waved, signaling a perfect bullseye.

Paul then proceeded to fire four more arrows in quick succession. Each hit dead center.

Not a single shot missed its mark. Damian’s lips curled into a smile as he watched.

“Your turn,” Damian said to Sren. “You should have a good idea of the wind conditions by now, right?”

“….”

Sren bit his lip as he took his position. Damian was right—Paul’s shots had given him valuable information about the wind’s direction and strength.

Krrrrk.

With quiet determination, Sren drew his bow. This was his chance to prove his worth.

There’s no way I’m losing to kids like these…!

Sren had been shooting for over 20 years. He prided himself on his archery skills and had joined the military with a reputation.

The Caion Division was supposed to be his final destination before retirement—a way to secure a comfortable future by leveraging the prestige of the division.

Swoosh!

Whizz!

Sren’s arrow flew swiftly from his hand. The speed was noticeably greater than what the standard-issue bows could produce.

Thud!

His arrow hit the target, but it was slightly off-center. Better than his first test, but…

“Disqualified. It’s over.”

“W-What?!”

Sren looked at Damian in disbelief.

“What do you mean by that?!”

“What do you think? Paul hit the center with all five shots. You missed with your first shot. What more is there to say?”

“There’s still four more chances, isn’t there?” Sren protested.

“Even if you hit the center with all of them, it’s still your loss. The result has already been decided, so why are you wasting your breath?” Damian replied coldly.

Sren, finally understanding the futility of his argument, lowered his head.

“…I acknowledge it. My defeat.”

With a heavy heart, Sren stepped forward and handed over his bow to Damian. He had never anticipated such a crushing outcome.

As Damian accepted the bow, he offered a final piece of advice, “Be more humble in your original unit. Keep improving your weaknesses.”

It was unsolicited advice, but Sren said nothing. He turned around, realizing that saying anything further would only deepen his humiliation.

Watching Sren’s retreating figure, Damian turned to the others.

“…And you all, keep your thoughts in check too,” Dianal remarked to the other recruits, as much to himself as to them.

“Let’s head back. Dianal, have the list of successful recruits on my desk by tomorrow.”

“Understood.”

With that, the long recruitment and testing process for the Caion Division’s new archery unit finally came to an end.

Meanwhile, at the same moment…

“Is that the place?”

Galveron Maxkov, the fourth Aura Master of the Empire, stood on a hill overlooking the border of the Tirkan Kingdom.

Below, Tirkan’s military forces were already deployed, seemingly anticipating the Empire’s next move.

But Galveron appeared unfazed as he turned his back on the setting sun. Darkness would soon cover the land, and with it, his plans would begin.

“A new chapter in history will be written tonight.”

He couldn’t afford to let his first campaign be marred by failure.

As the last light of the sun faded and night descended, Galveron’s aide, Hoikin, approached.

“Everything is ready, General.”

Galveron nodded in response.

“By dawn, all our forces must be inside the Tirkan Kingdom’s borders. Crush and trample every enemy in our path.”

“All troops, advance!” Hoikin bellowed.

With that command, the Empire’s forces began their march, advancing toward the Tirkan Kingdom under the cover of darkness.

—

“One, two, three, four! One-two-three-four! One-two-three-four!” The rhythmic chants echoed through the morning air as the Caion Division began their first official day of training with the new recruits.

As always, the morning started with a light run, with the full unit engaged in drills right from the first day.

‘First, we need to build cohesion among the soldiers,’ Damian thought as he observed the scene.

Tactical coordination could be drilled into them with enough time. But bonding a unit that had suddenly tripled in size into a cohesive force would take far longer—unless, of course, a significant event happened to unify them.

Nothing fosters camaraderie quicker than the battlefield, where trust in your comrades could mean the difference between life and death. In those moments, you had to rely on the person covering your back, or you wouldn’t survive.

With this in mind, Damian closed his eyes, mentally preparing. Rumors of the Empire’s activity had started circulating again, and he knew it wouldn’t be long before the Caion Division was called into action.

No, he knew for a fact—it had already begun.

‘The Empire’s plans were only delayed by the Caion Division’s success.’

But now, both the Baroque and Spanian kingdoms had forged a powerful alliance, and surrounding smaller kingdoms were actively negotiating their own alliances.

The Baroque Kingdom was now preparing for a full-scale war with the Empire.

‘This alone shows how much the timeline has already changed.’

Originally, the Empire had swept through the Spanian Kingdom and several smaller nations at lightning speed, leaving no room for response from kingdoms like Baroque or Artian. The Empire had become an unstoppable juggernaut, devouring entire territories with ease.

In the previous timeline…

‘…I was consumed by that monster.’

It had been too late by the time the Baroque and Artian kingdoms united to oppose the Empire.

‘Back then, Baroque had already lost half its territory before the alliance even began.’

What happened after that was a mystery to Damian. Whether the alliance managed to halt the Empire’s advance or if they were utterly defeated, he never found out—because Damian had already died by then.

But this time, things were different.

Although the Spanian Kingdom was on the verge of collapse, it had recovered swiftly. And the royal family was still intact, with the heir to the throne continuing the kingdom’s legacy.

Even the smaller surrounding kingdoms were holding strong. All of this was an improvement compared to the past.

“But there’s still not enough time,” Damian muttered.

The timeline had accelerated, and events were unfolding faster than they had in his previous life.

‘The future has already changed because of me.’

Although the larger events seemed to be following the same trajectory, the smaller details had already begun to shift. Still, Damian had done everything he could to prepare.

Now, he had one final task before him.

“It’s time to fully make this power my own.”

With the *Delft Mana Training Technique* advancing to its fifth stage, Damian had begun to experience profound changes. His strength, which had previously been limited by his magic, was now pushing beyond its former boundaries.

In other words…

‘I’ve started to grasp the essence of Aura.’

However, to fully understand and control this power, he needed the guidance of a skilled Aura Master.

“Now, I should be able to meet him,” Damian thought.

Though he was technically still a subordinate, his new position as the leader of the Caion Division—a unit that had defeated the Rose Knight Order—meant he had a higher standing than before.

With his thoughts clear, Damian went to seek out Leonhark.

“Leonhark, sir.”

“Yes? What is it?”

“I have a request.”

Leonhark listened, then looked at Damian with surprise as he heard his request.