"Well then, since no one wants to surrender," Grey spoke a minute later, as if giving them time to fully accept their own decision. "I'll explain the training rules."
He smiled, and there was a trace of sadism and curiosity in that smile.
"I will repeat them only once. Anyone who disobeys will receive only one punishment: EXECUTION."
The word cracked across their ears like a prison guard's whip.
"No half measures. No regrets. From the moment you agreed, only two paths remain before you: victory... or death."
"From this second onward, I am your supreme commander! I am your messiah. Your mother. Your father. And your mentor."
He spread his arms wide, as though drawing them beneath his shadow.
"You obey only my orders and no one else's. Even if King Orion himself comes here. Even if a god descends from the heavens. Even if the skies split open above your heads. You are not to obey them."
His gaze sharpened.
"Anyone who disobeys will be EXECUTED."
"I am very fond of punctuality. Anyone who arrives late to training will be EXECUTED."
"Anyone who dares express dissatisfaction or doubt in my methods will be EXECUTED."
"Disobey an order and it's EXECUTION."
"... EXECUTION."
"EXECUTION."
A series of shouts of "EXECUTION" spread through the courtyard. With each repetition, the aura around Grey grew heavier, leaving no doubt about his ruthlessness or his determination to keep every promise he made.
The boy's pupils pulsed strangely. A merciless smile played across his lips, the kind worn by a maniac intoxicated by the desire to kill.
The teenagers stood at attention. Cold sweat covered their backs.
Never before had death felt so close. It was as if the Grim Reaper was stroking their heads and quietly whispering for them to behave themselves. It was a strange feeling, deeply contradictory. Almost an instinct they could not ignore.
Grey's provocations had completely changed their personalities. The flame of ambition within them burned with fierce intensity. Yet just as easily as it had been ignited, it could also be extinguished.
Now it was sustained by fear. A fear far deeper than the threat posed by the cultists.
They knew that the boy standing before them was a cripple, incapable of carrying out everything he promised... However... No one wanted to become the first victim foolish enough to test that assumption.
At the same time, on the far side of the courtyard, a female figure stood upon the branch of a tall oak hidden beneath dense foliage.
Very little light reached her. It merely brushed against the outline of her silhouette. A gentle smile rested on her beautiful face, and her fingers trembled ever so slightly with excitement.
"Fufufu," she laughed softly. "What a courageous aura! His determination and ambition are about to pierce the Heavens. Truly worthy of the Child of Prophecy. He looks so... adorable."
Her gaze remained fixed on the black-haired boy in the courtyard. It seemed as though she had become lost in her own thoughts. She was almost brought to tears by joy and excitement.
She could not help imagining the effect those words would have on a real battlefield.
Anyone who heard that speech would smile fearlessly even as they marched toward death! His words would make their blood boil. Life and death would lose all meaning... no hesitation, no regrets!
How could such an army ever suffer defeat?
Yes... it would be wonderful!
Grey's performance had come as a pleasant surprise. Such a great surprise that she did not dare reveal herself and disrupt his rhythm. At that moment, the little boy seemed almost unbearably charming to her, enough to make her heart skip a beat.
"Number Four, listen to your orders."
The woman straightened, and the air around her seemed to tighten.
"From this moment on, your task is to guard this estate. Do not allow a single person to approach it. Do not let anyone discover what is happening here. Anyone who trespasses... kill them without mercy."
She paused briefly, as though considering something.
"This order applies only to the nine higher races. Monsters, magical beasts, and other mindless creatures may do whatever they please here."
"You are responsible only for this estate."
"The surrounding territory does not concern you."
"Do not allow them to notice your presence."
"Report their progress once every week."
She slightly turned her head over her shoulder. A dangerous, seductive smile appeared on her lips.
"And keep your mouth shut. You know what will happen to you... if anyone besides me learns about this."
Without waiting for a reply, the woman turned away, and in the next instant vanished as though she had never been there at all. She did not wait to see her subordinate's reaction.
"My little boy..." a quiet, almost affectionate whisper echoed in her wake. "I never knew you were hiding such ambitions. I eagerly await how far you will go."
Meanwhile, Grey's shouts echoed across the entire training ground.
"Now listen to your first order. Split yourselves into two groups: wounded and healthy. You have ten breaths to do it. If even one person fails to make it in time, all of you will run one hundred laps around the estate! Move!"
The moment he finished speaking, chaos erupted.
He had given them no clear criteria, which meant everyone had to decide for themselves how serious an injury needed to be to qualify for the "wounded" group.
Garen, who could barely get out of bed, stubbornly insisted on joining the "healthy" group, while Reus and Kai tried desperately to talk him out of it. The argument flared up instantly and nearly turned into a fight. They practically had to force Garen into compliance.
Because of him, they risked disobeying an order and being forced to run a hundred laps.
In the end, when the allotted time expired, two groups had formed in the courtyard.
Strangely enough, the wounded group contained only five people: Garen and Allen, the freckled boy, and two girls who nervously bit their lips.
Everyone else boldly placed themselves among the healthy.
Grey swept his gaze across them and confirmed that the division was correct.
Indeed, those standing apart had been at death's door just last night, whether from injuries or simple exhaustion. He had seen their swollen stomachs, and the sight had troubled him greatly, but he was confident that the minor healing potions had completely cured them.
"Good! Now listen very carefully. The healthy ones will begin training immediately. Push-up position! Three sets of fifty push-ups, thirty breaths of rest between sets! Maintain a steady pace! Begin!"
The teenagers immediately dropped to the ground and carried out the order.
Grey completely ignored them and turned toward those who remained standing.
"You didn't think I was going to send you off to rest, did you?" He smirked. "Don't worry so much. I won't be giving you heavy workloads for the next three days. I need competent subordinates, not corpses."
"Your task is to clean the entire estate. On the first day, gather all the debris. On the second, sweep away the dust. On the third, get rid of the plants that have rooted themselves into the concrete. Understood? Move!"
Garen wanted to say something, but Grey's murderous stare, along with the twitching hand at his side, made him swallow his objections.
Grey turned around and approached those who were training.
"Excellent! While you're working, I'll explain the current situation," he said loudly enough for everyone to hear, both those doing push-ups and those who had gone off to clean. "Right now, I know absolutely nothing about you... so for the time being, I will only conduct general training."
He rubbed his hands together, unable to conceal his anticipation.
"The first week is introductory. Wake up at five in the morning. Twenty laps around the estate. Breakfast. Rest period. Strength training. Combat technique practice. Lunch. Break. Lecture on cultivation. Flexibility training. Free exercises. Dinner. Time for hygiene. One hour of rest. Lights out at sunset."
He spoke calmly, almost casually, as if reading from a shopping list.
"You must set a time limit for everything. Eating, going to the toilet... absolutely everything! Anyone who breaks the established schedule will be severely punished. I don't care why it happened. The schedule must not be broken!"
"Exercise complete! Jog around the courtyard! Move!"
Gasping for breath, the teenagers climbed to their feet and obediently began running in circles.
Grey continued his sermon. "In one week, I will personally hold a competition. The rules are very simple: the bottom fifth with the worst results will be considered the losers. Those unfortunate souls will wash clothes for the winners, cook their meals, and clean their chamber pots."
"These competitions will be held every month."
"Anyone who loses three times in a row will strip down to their underwear, climb onto a stage, and bark like a dog. I don't care whether you're a boy or a girl. I am a firm believer in equality. Therefore, I look forward to your pitiful performances."
Someone stumbled. Someone lost their rhythm. But no one stopped running.
While the others trained, Grey did not stop talking for even a second. He understood perfectly how propaganda worked. If you tell a pig long enough that it is a mighty eagle, sooner or later it will spread its wings and fly into the sky.
The same logic could be applied to people.
Especially children, whose values were still taking shape.
He had to use this opportunity to hammer the importance of discipline into their heads. Clear, absolute discipline. With a well-defined system of rewards and punishments.
"Right now, I don't care about your names!... That can wait a few months," Grey called after the runners. "For now, listen carefully. I've already designed the structure of our organization."
"There will be three halls and seven pavilions."
He paused for effect.
"The Hall of Iron Blood. The Hall of Soul Reapers. The Hall of Glory."
"Only the best will enter them. The future pillars whom everyone else will be required to obey. You have a chance to gain subordinates of your own. A very good chance. I hope you'll make use of it."
"But don't even think it will be easy. You are not the only people I intend to use. Since I've taken this on, I will see it through to the end!"
He snapped his fingers as though returning to a list.
"Where was I? Ah, yes... the pavilions."
"The seven pavilions are responsible for seven different branches. Which ones exactly is none of your business. Only official members of the organization have the right to know. And only the worthy will be allowed to join them."
"At the moment, not a single one of you weaklings qualifies! Everything depends on whether you can meet my standards or not. If the answer is yes, then I may graciously allow myself to remember your name! But if the answer is no... then you'll remain nothing more than trash beneath my feet!!"
Everyone listened to his speech with expressions as though they had just been forced to eat dirt, yet they kept running. The stream of words pouring from Grey never stopped, as if he did not care in the slightest whether they were listening or not.
Meanwhile, nearly identical thoughts spun through their minds.
'This actually doesn't sound bad at all. We're fed. We're trained. We're given a chance to become stronger. Sure, I could lose and embarrass myself... but I could also win. And watch other people make fools of themselves.'
'Competitions? What do I have to be afraid of? I survived the desert under the cultists' oppression. All I have to do is increase the intensity of my training a little. I'll do three times as much. And if that's not enough... then I'll increase it fivefold...'
'I definitely won't lose three times in a row. Never. My body will remain pure for my future husband. I thought that would be Achilles... but Grey seems far more mature... Wait. What am I thinking? I have to win. It feels nice when other people do the work for you.'
Their lives now revolved around training.
From this moment onward, seventeen teenagers had officially stepped onto a path leading straight into the depths of Hell.
"Finished running!" Grey barked. "Pick up some stones. Squats on my count. Move!"
He perfectly played the role of the one seeing them off.
"One... two... One... two..."
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