Morning came quickly, and as expected, there were early risers among the students.

Mozrael was one of those, picking up that habit from their experience in the forest.

Very quickly, she cleaned up and donned a fresh set of clothes.

Right at that moment, a loud screech pierced through the air.

"Can't they just let us sleep?" Elira sat up immediately, punching a fist into the bed.

Sylvia was quiet, only listening with a frown.

The screech repeated again, and Elira groaned loudly. "I hate this!" She entered under her cover, then covered her head with her pillow.

Mozrael left the room.

She made her way to the assembly grounds where Aramith and Aris waited.

Aris shivered, rolled up in a foetal position.

"You're the first here. Did you sleep well?" Aramith smiled.

Mozrael nodded. It was her first real sleep in a while. She only wondered how it was for Aramith.

"Father Atta Morvian came around. He showed us a place on the training grounds where we could sleep, but we had to leave by dawn before anyone woke up. And he also showed us a place to clean up," he explained before Mozrael had the chance to ask.

He shrugged. "It was fine, but he's not used to mornings like this, so he's cold," Aramith chuckled.

Mozrael frowned at him. It's his fault this is happening.

Aramith caught a glimpse of Mozrael's expression and shook his head. "Well, he didn't steal." Suddenly, Aramith's expression became strange. Mozrael hadn't seen that twist in his lips before, so she didn't know what it meant.

Cringe?

"He was picking nice stones and pieces of metal," Aramith said. "That's why his bag was full."

Mozrael looked at the boy, then at his bag, which lay next to him.

So he was collecting trash?

She couldn't believe it. Suddenly, she felt like burning him.

Aris felt her gaze and scuffled away

"MOVE TO THE ASSEMBLY IN TEN!"

There was no mistaking that booming voice—Father Garrun.

"Nine!" Suddenly, there was chaos within the dorms.

"Eight!" More chaos, people slipping in bathrooms, and others wearing their clothes wrong.

"Seven!"

"Six!" A few made it to the assembly grounds. Some were dressed up, others, still finishing their outfits as they arrived.

"Five!"

"Four!"

"Three!" More chaotic rush as some were shoved.

"Two!" No one knew what would happen if they were late, and very few would try to find out.

"One!"

Now, everyone rushed to get to the assembly grounds as quickly as they could.

Exactly two seconds after the countdown, a gust of wind whoshed through the grounds, and Garrun was standing there, blocking the path to the assembly grounds.

He stood with his arms folded, smiling at the late ones. The golden sunlight reflected off his head, which looked both amusing and scary. It was like this towering beast of a man was sent by the heavens to pass judgment.

So many of them stood before him, afraid to move.

Those who came later slowed down, then froze when they saw him.

The place became quieter than a cemetery, and even the trees stopped their leaves from swaying just to see what was going on.

"I don't know why you have all stopped. Did anyone say stop beside the assembly grounds, or move to the assembly grounds?"

They exchanged looks, but were still afraid to move.

Go on, you're the closest!

Me? Why don't you go?

Why are you scared?

Well, aren't you?

But you're in front.

Put people in a difficult situation, and you'll be able to see their creativity.

With just their facial expressions, they were able to share their thoughts.

Eyes, frowns, shaking of the head, you name it?

"I'll do it!" One timid-looking boy said at last.

Heads turned to the scrawny-looking kid who tried to put on a brave front.

He'd lost a dare in that second and was forced to be the scapegoat.

A few looked at him with teary eyes.

Your sacrifice would be respected.

Whatever happened would let them know the next step to take.

Fearfully, he walked forward, steering clear of Father Garrun, but with every step closer, buckets of sweat filled the ground beneath his feet, and by the time he was a step away from the big man, he was looking like someone who'd just taken a swim.

He paused for a moment, then took a deep breath.

With all his strength, he tried to quickly walk past Father Garrun.

Don't look at me

Don't look at me

Don't look at me

Don't look at me

Don't me look

Don't look at him

Don't "Aah!"

His body shook violently as Fathe Garrun placed a hand on his shoulder. He looked even smaller.

"Hahaha!" Garrun laughed heartily. "Are you that afraid? Good, good!" he laughed some more.

But no one found it funny, especially the boy he'd gripped. He felt like falling to the ground and dying.

"I like your courage! Look at them," Garrun turned the boy to face the late students. He could feel his heart beating so violently that it could jump out of his chest.

I'll die!

"Look, so many bigger people who look stronger and braver than you, but you chose to go on ahead of them. Hahaha, look how scared they all are!"

I'm dead!

"You're bold, boy." Garrun smiled genuinely at him. "No, go on, I told you to go to the assembly grounds, didn't I?" He patted the boy lightly on the back, pushing him toward the assembly grounds.

Everyone was in shock. He didn't do anything?

The boy stood there a moment, then quickly made his way to the assembly grounds.

Seeing that he'd been allowed to go freely, those who'd forced him to do it puffed out their chests and followed suit.

Garrun smiled at the five boys who walked with courage and nodded.

They approached him and, with a light bow, greeted him.

"Good Morning, sir."

Garrun smiled. "Good morning, boys. Now—"

Thud!

The dull sound echoed across the grounds, and the five boys were on the ground.

What they felt wasn't pain, but a heaviness on their skulls.

His hand fell like an iron hammer, hard and fast. No one saw it coming.

Those closest to him stepped back, looking at him like he was the devil himself.

"He squinted through his glasses. Are you trying to run away, or are you warming up to come for your punishment?"

But why did he let that boy go freely?

No one understood why he did that, but they understood he was going to put them through hell.

Just take a look at those he'd knocked. They still couldn't get up.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Three strikes—so fast they blurred into one sound. Eight students dropped like wheat under a scythe, clutching their heads, the ground littered with groaning bodies before anyone even realized Garrun had moved.

From the assembly grounds, those who'd made it earlier thanked their ancestors for granting them the strength to avoid this trouble. A few grabbed their heads, watching in horror as others were receiving divine retribution. Wails, gasps, and screams made it more frightening with every passing second.

Aris, who had been shivering earlier, felt hot. He knew very well he'd be late if he slept in the dorms. He looked across at the training grounds, then at the grass which kept him awake, a silent gratitude in his eyes.

The place became a massacre as some tried to run away. Garrun was quick.

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Thud! Thud!

Every step he took when he ran after them echoed with a loud boom, sending cracks into the ground, along with chockwaves that heightened their fear as he approached his targets, giving them heavy knocks, then choosing his next target.

One girl collapsed, sobbing openly, snot running down her face as she beat the dirt with her palms.

"I accept it! Just don't chase me, please!" she wailed, but Garrun's shadow still loomed over her.

His booming steps were even more frightening than his knocks. The fear they put in one shook their bones and even paralyzed their will to survive. Garrun was fast, but he chose to do this to put extra fear in them.

After the final student had been struck, he counted down from three and gave chase to those on the ground who were unable to get up.

He struck them again if they couldn't move quickly enough, chasing them to the grounds. The fear of going through hell again made them move out of the way, screaming as they rushed to the assembly grounds.

He was a beast.

At the assembly grounds, rows of exhausted youths lined up. Garrun's towering figure stalked before them, frightening them so much that some even forgot to breathe.

The weight in their skulls made it difficult to even stand, but that wasn't the end.

His voice boomed, "Strength is survival. Weakness is death. Show me which you are!"

Then the drills began: running laps until lungs burned, push-ups until arms trembled, and holding planks under searing sunlight.

Those who faltered were struck down with extra punishment—a meaty thud against their skulls to motivate them.

This was a morning no one would forget. It would be forever burned in their heads.

The girls who'd decided to do their best to look gorgeous regretted their own stupidity.

But what the hell! This isn't a military camp!

"Enough!" Garrun finally shouted. "Now line up."

With the difficulty and rigidity of old people, they formed lines, struggling to even stand straight.

The other three fathers came forward.

Strained muscles, aching bodies, shaking bones, and blurred vision.

A truly memorable welcome.

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