Pulling a fresh stack of documents from the side of her desk, she unfolded the top page and scanned its contents. “New Renovations for the Education of the Youth of Jola City.”

  She let out a small hum of approval. “Oh… Alice finally finished drafting it, huh?” she murmured, flipping through the neatly written proposal. Without wasting time, she began reading and making adjustments where necessary, her quill scratching softly against the parchment.

  This document outlined the proposed new regulations and structures for Jola’s education system. While Ravenna had direct authority over what would be taught in Jola’s schools, she still had to adhere to the imperial system’s guidelines. Moreover, as part of her agreement with the Herptian Church, she had promised to support the spread of their faith in Jola.

  For the most part, Ravenna had chosen to delegate the control of education to the church. Unlike the mainland empire, where literacy was a privilege of the nobility, the Herptian Church had long ensured that Jola’s native population was literate. Given this advantage, it wasn’t necessarily a bad idea to allow them to continue operating the schools—especially since it provided a valuable loophole in imperial law.

  The empire’s strict laws prohibited commoners from learning certain disciplines—administration, legal studies, advanced alchemy, higher-level magic, and geopolitics—all of which were reserved for those of noble origin.

  Previously, these laws explicitly stated "of noble birth," but during the reign of Ravenna’s great-grandfather, the language had been subtly revised with the support of the Herptian Church. Now, the law stated that only those of ‘noble origin’ were eligible for higher education.

  This distinction was poorly defined, which allowed for exploitable loopholes. Nobility wasn’t solely limited to birthright—it could also be granted through honorary titles or positions within the empire’s recognized religious institutions, including the Twelve Faiths.

  Ravenna saw an opportunity.

  By officially placing the Herptian Church in charge of Jola’s education system, she could reclassify students who completed their basic education as honorary members of the faith. Once recognized as disciples of the Goddess Herptian, they would, by technicality, qualify as nobility under imperial law—making them eligible for higher education in fields normally reserved for the elite.

  “This is bound to land me in hot water with the imperial court sooner or later,” Ravenna muttered, tapping her quill against the parchment. “But it’s a risk worth taking.”

  Jola needed skilled administrators, legal experts, chemists, and magic scholars if it was going to survive in the long run. Without these reforms, the island would forever remain a dependent backwater, its people at the mercy of the empire’s whims.

  Ravenna expanded the curriculum beyond traditional subjects. Advanced chemistry, mathematics, and physics were now being introduced, along with other modern educational disciplines typically found in high school and middle school.

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  Thanks to the reputation system and the internet, she could easily acquire textbooks and materials that covered these fields. However, she knew better than to overload the current population with highly sophisticated concepts right away.

  “Subjects like advanced medical studies, programming, and scientific research… They’re beyond what the people of Jola can grasp at their current level.” Ravenna muttered to herself as she flipped through her notes.

  The transition needed to be gradual.

  For now, these advanced subjects would be taught to adults and the priests of the Herptian Church first. Once they had a solid foundation, they could become teachers themselves and pass the knowledge on to the next generation.

  It would take time—years, perhaps even decades—before Jola could produce its own doctors, engineers, and economists. But even so, the island’s population would soon surpass the mainland empire in educational knowledge.

  Ravenna smirked to herself. "A single well-educated generation can change the fate of an entire nation. It help the island a lot"

  With the foundation of Jola’s education system laid out, Ravenna turned her attention to structural reforms. The way the Herptian Church currently handled schooling was chaotic at best, with class schedules scattered throughout the week and little consistency in teaching methods.

  That needed to change.

  She established a unified curriculum system, ensuring that students would attend school five days a week, with Saturdays and Sundays designated as holidays. This structure would not only bring stability but also allow families to plan around a consistent schedule.

  However, academics weren’t the only concern.

  With the influx of former slaves, tensions were bound to rise between them and Jola’s native citizens. Social division could lead to discrimination, resentment, and even violence—problems that needed to be addressed before they could take root.

  To combat this, Ravenna implemented strict anti-bullying and anti-discrimination policies, making it clear that any form of harassment or prejudice would not be tolerated within the education system.

  She also standardized school uniforms and study materials, ensuring that every student—regardless of background—would receive the same attire and learning tools issued by the church and schools.

  On Earth, bullying often stemmed from economic inequality, social status, and appearance. By removing visible markers of wealth or poverty, she could at least minimize the divide that might form between Jola’s freed slaves and native-born citizens.

  But that wasn’t enough.

  Discipline needed to be enforced.

  She drafted firm school policies against bullying and harassment, pouring more personal attention into these guidelines than she had with anything else so far.

  Perhaps she was being too passionate about it, but she couldn’t help herself.

  After all, in her past life as Joy Kim, she had experienced bullying firsthand. The scars of those days still lingered, and if she had the power to prevent others from going through the same suffering—she would.

  She was about to move on to the next set of documents when a sharp knock echoed through the room.

  “Come in.”

  The door swung open, revealing Marie, slightly out of breath as if she had hurried over.

  “Master! High Priest James has asked me to bring you to the church! He says all the preparations for the ceremony are complete!”

  Ravenna placed her quill down and stood up from her chair, dusting off the hem of her coat. “I see.”

  Her gaze sharpened. The preparation for the public execution ritual ceremony was ready.

  This event would serve a crucial purpose, a defining moment that would permanently shift the people’s stance on crime in Jola.

  Without another word, she turned to Marie and nodded. “Well then, let’s get going.”

  the streets of Jola are going to witness a change one that would ensure order and loyalty for years to come.