It was time for lunch.
The kitchen servants dragged away the dead goats. Soon, the rich aroma of roasted meat began to waft through the air.
Guards brought over enormous wooden basins.
The Giants who hadn't "accidentally injured" their comrades during training each had a large, sizzling leg or rack of lamb placed before them.
But the Giants whose Wolf Fang Clubs were stained with goat brains and blood still received a basin of thin, watery white congee.
The savory smell of the meat and the blandness of the rice paste formed a stark contrast.
Punishment was more effective than any lecture.
When the afternoon training session began, the attitude of all the Giants had changed.
They no longer simply vented their Power, but began to "think."
Before swinging their clubs, they would first gently nudge the surrounding goats aside with their feet.
They would observe the positions of their companions to ensure no one else was within their attack range.
