Since the school had not yet finished arranging the specialized courses for all squads in the grade, Class E’s schedule for the next few days consisted entirely of Gongsun Shen’s military training.
His training program was extremely comprehensive, working every muscle in the human body.
Which meant that for the past few days, there wasn’t a single spot on Class E’s bodies that wasn’t sore.
Whether standing, sitting, or lying down, pain was always there.
It was nothing short of hell.
And for students with relatively better physiques, Gongsun Shen increased their training load even further.
Of course, a certain someone with unusually strong willpower was also included in that group.
As a result, Ye Lan truly had no energy left to think about anything else during this time.
He felt that just being able to lift chopsticks and put food in his mouth was already Gongsun Shen’s mercy.
Ye Lan did not blame Gongsun Shen for being so strict with Class E’s training.
From the beginning, Gongsun Shen had assumed all Class E students had no abilities, and trained them with that premise in mind—to build up their physical foundation.
Building a soldier’s physical foundation was one of the simplest and most effective ways to increase battlefield survival rates.
Its effectiveness even surpassed trying every possible method to awaken someone’s ability.
But other classes were not idle either.
Class A, the top of every year, was made up almost entirely of students who had already awakened their abilities upon admission.
The few who hadn’t were on the verge of awakening.
The resources and manpower invested in Class A by the academy were greater than what Classes B, C, D, and E combined received.
If Class A’s resources were set at 100%, then Class B received 50%, Class C received 30%, Class D received 20%, and Class E—only a meager 10%.
The academy’s policy was simple: “Support the strong, not the weak.”
The goal was to amplify existing advantages as much as possible.
Ye Lan couldn’t say that this policy was completely wrong.
After all, investing one unit of cost in Class A could bring back tenfold returns.
But investing the same in Class E might not even break even.
Of course, for those with ambition, even one unit of resources could be multiplied into a hundredfold improvement.
For those without ambition, even a thousand units would be wasted.
In the end, it all came down to the individual.
Ye Lan never told Gongsun Shen about his extra training.
He continued to sneak out at dawn to practice, as it had become part of his routine.
Of course, he did not rule out the possibility that Gongsun Shen already knew.
Ye Lan greatly respected Gongsun Shen, but the teacher’s background remained a mystery.
Not only did he possess a powerful physique and military discipline, he also had refined cultural manners and extensive theoretical knowledge across many fields.
If one day Gongsun Shen told Class E he would personally teach every single subject, Ye Lan wouldn’t doubt his ability—only whether Class E was worthy of such dedication.
But that was absurd.
One person handling everything would be exhausting.
So Gongsun Shen only taught military training, and only to Class E.
The reason he only taught Class E was not because he was their homeroom teacher.
It was because with thirty-six students, Class E already reached the maximum number one teacher could handle in a single subject.
Any more would require splitting into separate sessions.
At the Soul-Slaying Military Academy, courses were divided into specialized and non-specialized.
Specialized courses included Gongsun Shen’s military training, which everyone in Class E had to take—and retake if they failed.
Other subjects like Alliance Standard Language, Advanced Mathematics, and Political Thought also counted as specialized.
Non-specialized courses depended on the squad a student chose.
For example, Ye Lan’s logistics squad required cooking, herbal studies, and logistical support theory, among others.
But non-specialized courses often had a problem: the number of students registering in one class rarely met the required minimum, so many ended up combining students from multiple classes.
For Class E, the bottom of the ladder, this was hardly a good thing.
…
Ye Lan’s first non-specialized course was cooking.
Cooking was a skill, one often overlooked in modern times.
For soldiers, the most efficient meals were usually rations and energy drinks that could quickly restore strength and vitamins.
Ye Lan thought so too, and he was terrible at cooking.
But since this was a required course for logistics, he had no choice but to don an apron, put on a chef’s hat, and step up to the stove.
And in this cooking classroom, it wasn’t just Class E.
Because of low numbers, this session combined Classes D and E.
To be honest, Ye Lan didn’t think it was necessary for the weakest class and the second weakest to be at each other’s throats.
But clearly, for Class D—who couldn’t pick on any stronger class—Class E was their only target.
So while the atmosphere couldn’t quite be called “on the brink of violence,” it was certainly full of tension.
“You can call me Teacher Cai. I will be teaching you cooking and herbal studies.”
The instructor was a sharp-eyed middle-aged woman.
She looked like a cafeteria auntie, but in fact, she was one of the academy’s most senior teachers.
Bang! Bang!
Her steel spatula slammed against the desk, echoing loudly.
“Quiet! Whispering in my class means you want to go run laps with your squad’s assault unit, does it? If anyone wants to challenge my authority, you can test it against my spatula.”
Teacher Cai pointed her spatula at a few restless students from Class D.
The edge gleamed dangerously, and Ye Lan didn’t doubt it could be as deadly as a military shovel.
And honestly, a military shovel could be used for cooking as well as digging trenches.
Conversely, a spatula could probably dig a decent hole too.
The academy was full of strange legends, one of which was “Teacher Cai’s Spatula.”
Rumor had it that her spatula was made from the same alloy as a battlecruiser’s armor.
It was said to have incredible hardness and toughness—a true divine weapon.
Carrying the gleaming spatula, Teacher Cai walked past each nervous student, handing out a booklet.
Without even opening it, Ye Lan knew it was a food index, used to identify edible and inedible ingredients from across the stars.
Back at her podium, Teacher Cai explained, “In front of your two classes are 300 types of cooking ingredients.”
“Of these, 200 are edible, and 100 are poisonous.”
“Each class has 12 students. Each of you must select at least 20 edible items. For every mistake or omission, you will run 10 laps around your class’s training ground. I will inform your instructors.”