The next morning, the village gathered in the square.
Ark, Narsh, and Malrik stood at the center.
The villagers were crying like they were watching a funeral.
"Waaah! Don't take our Lord Ark!"
"Our Muscle God!"
"The Saint of Squats!"
Narsh muttered, "He's not dying, you idiots."
But her eyes were a little red, too.
Even Father tried to stand tall, though his voice shook.
"Ark… my son. Be strong. No matter what happens in the capital, remember—you are of this village."
I clenched my fists. My chest felt tight.
I hated goodbyes.
---
But then it hit me.
"Wait."
Everyone turned.
"I can't leave yet."
Narsh blinked. "What?"
I looked her dead in the eye. "I haven't done my routine."
Silence.
Malrik's eyebrow twitched. "Your… routine?"
I nodded solemnly.
"400 push-ups. 400 sit-ups. 400 squats. 10 km run. Every. Single. Day."
The crowd gasped in reverence.
"The Holy Ritual of Gains!"
"Our Lord Ark shall not depart impure!"
Narsh grabbed her head like she was in pain.
"Gods above, he's serious…"
---
And so, with the entire village watching, I dropped to the ground.
"ONE! TWO! THREE!"
The villagers started chanting with me.
"FOUR! FIVE! SIX!"
Malrik stared in disbelief as I powered through.
By the time I hit 200, old man Jiro was flexing beside me.
At 300, three kids joined in, screaming "Abs of Destiny!"
By 400, half the damn village was doing push-ups with me.
"YEAHHHH!" I roared, standing up.
Sweat poured down my face, but my spirit burned hotter than ever.
"Now… sit-ups!"
Narsh groaned. "This is the dumbest farewell ceremony in history."
---
Two hours later…
I stood, trembling but proud, having finished every rep.
The villagers cheered like they'd just witnessed a coronation.
Father wiped a tear. "I have never… been more proud of you, my son."
Narsh kicked my shin. "Idiot. You're leaving for who-knows-how-long, and you waste your last hours doing sit-ups?"
I grinned at her.
"A strong will… makes strong muscles. Remember?"
She froze for a moment, then looked away with a huff.
"…Dumbass."
---
Malrik finally snapped.
"Enough! We depart NOW."
The villagers booed him.
"Let the boy flex in peace!"
"Booo! Skinny priest!"
Malrik's temple vein bulged. "SKINNY?!"
Narsh smirked. "They're not wrong."
---
And so, with the villagers waving, crying, and flexing their biceps in salute, I walked out of the only home I had ever known.
Not as a child.
Not as a god.
Not as a Sage.
But as Ark.
The boy who believed muscles could defy fate.
---
[Author's Note: Next stop—the road trip from hell.]