9 Steps to Godhood

The morning began with the ringing of bells at 4:30 a.m., signaling that the next bell at 5 a.m. would mark the time by which all students had to be ready. Failure to comply meant being struck with a thin bamboo stick, which peeled layers of skin and caused excruciating pain. When the bell rang, Ryan dragged himself out of bed, looking as though he hadn't slept at all—and indeed, he hadn't. Despite forcing himself to adapt to this harsh environment, he couldn't shake the modern habit of staying up late. He had managed only a light sleep, and now, groggy and exhausted, he watched as the others cleaned their beds, changed into their uniforms—simple brown shirts and pants with shoes—and stood neatly beside their bunks, waiting for inspection. Ryan hurried to follow suit, dressing quickly and standing at attention by his bed.

At 5 a.m., the instructors entered the bunkhouse to inspect the students. They checked to ensure everyone was awake, properly dressed, and had made their beds. When the instructor passed Ryan, he scrutinized him carefully, seemingly disappointed when he found no fault. The other students also looked displeased, as if they had hoped Ryan would fail. Satisfied with the inspection, the instructor barked, "Alright, everyone, follow me for morning exercises!" He led the group to a large open ground, where the girls were already being guided by another instructor. The students began running in formation, with one instructor at the front and another at the back.

Ryan tried to keep up, positioning himself in the middle of the group, but it was nearly impossible. His wounds hadn't fully healed, his body wasn't physically developed, and he lacked the stamina and habit of running. He quickly fell behind, and as the last runner, he was struck with the bamboo stick each time he completed a lap. By the fifth lap, Ryan had been hit five times, his back stinging with pain. The instructor seemed to strike him harder than usual, and the other students watched with smug satisfaction.

By the end of the running exercise, everyone looked tired, but Ryan looked like he was on the verge of collapse. After a 15-minute break, it was time for bodyweight exercises. Ryan knew he wouldn't survive this unscathed. By 7 a.m., when the bell rang to signal the end of the exercises, Ryan was bruised, bloodied, and lying on the ground, gasping for breath. Tears welled in his eyes as he thought, *Maybe it would be better to end my life than endure this suffering.* But he steeled himself. The instinct to survive burned within him, and a flame of revenge ignited in his heart. He vowed to destroy the instructors who had tortured him, reduce the Viscount and his training ground to ashes, and obliterate every trace of their glory.

Forcing himself to get up, Ryan cleaned himself quickly in the bathhouse. Breakfast time was limited, and there was no luxury of freshening up properly. He knew he needed to eat to regain energy for the day ahead. After devouring a large portion of breakfast, it was time for cultural classes, followed by skill training.

At eight o'clock, the bell rang again, and the students filed into a building specifically designed for teaching. On the way to class, Ryan observed that there were about 60 students in total—42 boys and 18 girls. He overheard that the first batch had started training 12 days earlier and had already adapted to the grueling routine. Ryan realized that his escape attempt had likely been underestimated because the first batch had gone smoothly, and no one expected a child to defy nobles and adults by fleeing at night. He also learned that the night instructors responsible for guarding the grounds had been severely punished by the Viscount for his escape. The morning instructors, Charles and Stane, were the ones leading the exercises, and Stane had been the one striking him with the bamboo stick.

Inside the classroom, the students took their seats on the floor, each already familiar with their assigned spots. Books and pens were neatly arranged in front of them. Ryan noticed only one vacant seat near the middle corner and sat there. The boy beside him shot him a look of disgust.

A burly instructor entered the room and commanded, "Quiet, everyone! You're a bunch of illiterates who would never have had the chance to see books or gain knowledge if not for the Viscount's generosity. Be grateful for this opportunity. I'll give you a quick review since you've probably forgotten everything from yesterday. Don't think that neglecting your studies won't have consequences. Your performance in the cultural tests will determine your rank, and the Viscount doesn't want illiterates in his arsenal. Your lives depend on this, so pay attention."

The instructor continued, "First, my name is Rus. I'm introducing myself so that our short-lived celebrity over here knows who I am." He pointed directly at Ryan. "As you all know, we live in a world called Kosmos. Our country, Uruk, is one of the four major nations on the Old Continent, alongside San Marino, Illyria, and Andorra, as well as a few smaller duchies. The Old Continent was named after the discovery of the New Continent 300 years ago. Since then, we've adopted a new calendar, and today is the 28th of March in the 328th year since the discovery. Our city, Pearl City, has been ruled by the Viscount's family for generations. This is basic knowledge that everyone should know."

With that, Rus launched into a glorified history of the Viscount's family, clearly attempting to indoctrinate the students into unwavering loyalty. Ryan thought to himself, *I guess we can call this a brainwashing class to brainwashing class*