Six months later, the new recruits from the Adventurer's Guild of Berm had finally completed their basic training.
The difference was obvious immediately.
Marcus could see it even before he reached the training field that morning.
The men standing in formation no longer looked like rough adventurers chasing guild requests for coin. They no longer carried themselves like wandering fighters who survived through instinct and luck alone.
They looked organized.
Disciplined.
Professional.
Marcus stood near the edge of the field with his arms crossed as the morning wind moved lightly across the camp. Dust drifted over the open ground while the sounds of training echoed faintly from the distance. Behind the formation, the Atlas training facility stretched across land that had once been completely empty six months ago.
Now it looked like a real military compound.
