I said.

Where's breakfast?

You European monks get up at four o'clock and chant sutras for so long, don't you plan to fill your stomachs in the morning?

Out of desperation, Todd hastily poured down a mouthful of cold water, and with nothing else to do, he could only sit on the steps of the side corridor in a daze.

Fortunately, Huggins found him.

Having traveled with the little fellow for several days and knowing his daily routine well, the Slavic man secretly slipped half a rye bread into his arms, and then took him to Master Myris's class.

When Todd arrived at the old man's classroom, he realized that what Huggins had said about "valuing" things the day before was indeed true.

Beside the wooden shelf piled high with books, there is a square desk about one meter in size and two wooden chairs facing each other.

Today's class was surprisingly one-on-one between Master Myris and Todd.

The old man gestured for Huggins to leave, took a stack of yellowed pages from the bookshelf, sat down opposite the boy, pointed to the letters drawn on them, and said, “Considering you have no educational background, I will spend a morning teaching you the basics of reading the sacred texts.”

Leaning against the edge of the desk, the new student glanced at the 'Aa, Bb, Cc, Dd...' on the pages of his book.

He thought to himself.

Indeed, the official language of the religion here is Latin.

Three minutes later.

When the farmer's child read the alphabet without any difficulty, Master Myris's wide-open eyes shone with an unusual light, like a lighthouse in the night.

Todd moved the chair he was sitting in back a little, sensing something was wrong.