The first time the knights trained with rifles, three of them flinched at the sound.
John didn't comment.
They stood in the outer courtyard of Citadel Alpha, where cracked marble met newly poured concrete. Sandbag walls divided the training lanes. Steel targets had been welded from salvaged debris. Beyond the walls, smoke still curled from districts not yet reclaimed.
Thirty knights of Lumeris stood in formation—silver armor polished, tabards torn from recent battle.
Across from them—
Twenty Rangers in desert camo, rifles held casually but precisely.
Two different worlds.
One battlefield.
John stepped forward.
"You swing steel," he said evenly. "They fire lead. Starting today, you do both."
A murmur ran through the knights.
Sir Cedric, captain of the surviving royal guard, stepped forward. His armor was dented from the citadel's fall. His eyes were steady.
"Our men are not afraid of combat," Cedric said.
John nodded. "Good. Because combat isn't afraid of you."
He gestured toward the firing lane.
"Live rounds."
The first Ranger fired.
The crack of the rifle split the courtyard like lightning.
Several knights visibly stiffened.
One tightened his grip on his sword.
John's voice remained calm.
"Demons don't wait for you to adjust."
---
Cultural Friction
The first hour was awkward.
Knights held rifles like crossbows. Some closed their eyes before firing. Others braced as if expecting recoil to break their shoulders.
Rangers corrected posture without mockery.
"Shoulder it."
"Lean forward."
"Don't fight the weapon."
A younger knight, barely twenty, fired too early. The round ricocheted off stone.
Silence fell.
John walked toward him slowly.
"Name."
"L-Lukas, sir."
"Scared?"
The knight hesitated.
"Yes."
John nodded once.
"Good. Fear means you're still thinking."
He adjusted Lukas' stance himself.
"Breathe in. Hold. Squeeze—don't pull."
Lukas fired again.
The steel target rang clean.
Something shifted in the formation.
They were learning.
---
The Real Test
The alarm cut through training like a blade.
Incoming hostiles. East district.
John didn't hesitate.
"Field integration," he ordered.
The Rangers snapped into readiness.
Cedric looked at him. "You're deploying us."
"Yes."
"With your soldiers."
"Yes."
A flicker of understanding passed between them.
This wasn't training anymore.
This was the trial.
---
East District Push
The eastern streets were narrow and choked with debris. Ideal for ambush.
John's HUD marked fifteen demon signatures moving between collapsed townhouses.
"Shield wall front," Cedric ordered instinctively.
The knights locked shields.
Behind them, Rangers took firing positions.
The first demon lunged from a shattered window—
A rifle shot dropped it midair.
The second slammed into the shield wall.
Steel rang.
Cedric drove his blade upward through the demon's jaw.
Black blood sprayed across his armor.
More poured into the street.
John's voice cut through gunfire.
"Left flank, rooftop!"
Missile Defender launched upward—
Explosion.
Gargoyle fell in pieces.
But demons were fast in tight quarters.
One broke through the shield line, slamming a knight into a stone column.
Before it could finish him—
Two Rangers stepped in, firing controlled bursts into its spine.
It collapsed.
The wounded knight stared at the soldiers who had saved him.
They offered no speeches.
Just a nod.
Then moved forward.
---
Close-Quarters Baptism
The fighting tightened into alleyways barely wide enough for two men abreast.
This was where guns could fail.
One demon tackled a Ranger, claws digging into body armor.
A knight didn't hesitate.
He dropped his rifle.
Drew his sword.
And severed the demon's arm.
The Ranger rolled free and finished it with a point-blank shot.
They locked eyes.
Understanding.
Different weapons.
Same war.
John watched the integration in real time.
Efficiency rising.
Casualties minimal.
Trust forming.
---
The Breaking Point
A massive brute burst from a warehouse door ahead—larger than the others.
It roared, swinging a cleaver-sized blade.
The first rifle shots barely slowed it.
It crashed into the shield wall.
Two knights went down.
Cedric was thrown backward.
The brute raised its weapon—
John stepped forward calmly.
"Clear."
The Rangers fell back instantly.
The brute charged.
John drew the laser designator from his belt.
A red dot centered on the demon's chest.
Above the clouds—
A Raptor adjusted course.
The missile struck with surgical precision.
The explosion filled the street.
When the smoke cleared, the brute was gone.
The surviving knights stared at the crater.
Cedric slowly rose to his feet.
He looked at John—not with suspicion this time.
But respect.
"That," Cedric said quietly, "is not a weapon."
John holstered the designator.
"It's insurance."
---
Aftermath
The eastern district fell silent.
Fifteen demons eliminated.
Two knights wounded, none dead.
Rangers sustained minor injuries only.
Back at Citadel Alpha, medics worked side-by-side—modern trauma kits meeting herbal salves.
Lukas, the young knight who had flinched earlier, approached a Ranger awkwardly.
"You… saved me."
The Ranger shrugged. "You saved me first."
They clasped forearms.
Not knight.
Not infantry.
Soldiers.
---
A Queen Observes
From the battlements, Queen Aria had watched the entire engagement through tactical feed relayed from John's system.
When he returned, she descended to meet him.
"They fight differently now," she said.
"Yes."
"They trust each other."
"Yes."
She studied his face.
"You knew this would work."
John looked past her toward the recovering troops.
"No," he said honestly. "I hoped."
A pause.
"Their world ended when the walls fell," he continued. "Today they learned something."
"What?"
He met her eyes.
"That the future doesn't belong to demons."
Below them, knights cleaned rifles beside Rangers who sharpened combat knives.
Two doctrines.
One purpose.
Aria felt something stir deep within her chest—not just admiration.
But pride.
Not the sin.
The human kind.
"This was their baptism," she said softly.
John nodded.
"Yes."
And from that day forward, the soldiers of Lumeris no longer spoke of "his army" and "ours."
They spoke of one force.
Forged in ash.
Baptized in gunfire.