The Emerald City Guards gathered in a small group, their numbers a stark contrast to the grandeur of Emerald City's military reputation. With only 2,051 guards by international standards, they were acutely aware of their limited manpower. But these weren't ordinary recruits—they were the best of the best, handpicked from the academy to protect the city.
Among them was Mason Wolfe, a top graduate who ranked 10th in the academy. As his comrades worked on repairing the damage caused by the notorious Wizard Lumindra's recent attack, Mason stood watch on the city walls.
"Why do these wizards always mess with us? What did we ever do to them?" grumbled one of the guards, his hands busy patching cracks in the wall with cement.
"Keep your voice down!" another guard hissed, glancing around nervously. "What if Oz is listening?"
"I don't care. Wizards can kiss my—" the guard's complaint was cut short as the Chief Guard emerged from the rubble, his glare demanding silence.
"Donovan," the Chief Guard barked, and the guard who had been grumbling stiffened, stepping forward as if expecting punishment.
"Yes, Chief?" Donovan replied, his voice shaky, bracing for the worst.
"Someone from the castle is waiting for you in the cafeteria. Just make sure none of that talk reaches the Wizard's ears," the Chief said, casting a warning glance at the rest of the guards. "You all can take a break too."
---
The Emerald City Guard cafeteria buzzed with chatter during lunch. Guards lined up for their meals, eagerly awaiting the hot food. Donovan sat alone at a corner table, his eyes fixed on the unfamiliar man seated across from him.
"Uhmm..." Donovan stammered, struggling to find words in the awkward silence.
"I'm Detective John Sterling," the man introduced himself, tipping his black hat. Beneath the brim, his middle-aged face was calm, a dark coat draped over his shoulders. His hair, neatly combed, contrasted with his rough demeanor.
"A detective?" Donovan echoed, confused. He had never heard of such a title during his years as a guard. "What's that mean?"
George, disguising himself as John Sterling, smiled. "The Great Wizard gave me this title. My job is to investigate crimes and improve the safety of Emerald City."
George had sought someone with firsthand experience in the academy's non-magic sector, and Donovan was his target. His plan was straightforward: if the academy proved too difficult, he'd retreat; if there was even a sliver of hope, he would go all in.
"So… am I under investigation? Did I do something wrong?" Donovan asked, his voice rising with anxiety as he wiped sweat from his brow.
George, having spent years as a lawyer defending clients against AI prosecutors, was skilled at reading people. He could sense that Donovan was more nervous than the worst liars he had ever encountered.
"Relax, Donovan. You're not in trouble. I just need to ask you a few questions about your time at the academy," George assured him, hoping to ease the tension.
"Scared? Ha! No way. It's just… hot in here." Donovan's nervous laugh betrayed his attempt to play it cool.
George glanced out the window at the light drizzle and cool breeze drifting into the room. "Uh-huh. Sure. So, tell me about your experience at the academy."
Donovan wiped his brow again. "Honestly, I thought you were here to kill me for badmouthing the Wizard earlier... son of a—" He caught himself mid-sentence, his eyes locking with George's.
George held back a smirk, surprised at Donovan's lack of filter. "Don't worry about it. I've heard the Great Wizard is very forgiving."
Donovan nodded fervently, forcing himself to stay composed. "Yeah, yeah, of course."
"So, how was the academy?" George asked, steering the conversation back.
Donovan leaned back in his chair. "It was fine. I'm good at fighting, always had the strength for it. Nothing bad ever happened to me."
George nodded, curious. "What would you say to someone who's not as skilled in combat? Someone who doesn't have your natural abilities?"
Donovan chuckled, shaking his head. "Give up."
George raised an eyebrow. "Is it really that tough?"
"Yeah. For those who aren't naturally talented? It's brutal. I guarantee if some untalented kid tried to join the non-magic sector, they wouldn't even make it into the lowest class."
George leaned in, intrigued. "Why not?"
"There's a physical test for everyone wanting to enter the non-magic sector," Donovan explained. "You fight against random students, and only 200 get accepted each semester. The rest? They don't make the cut."
"And if by some miracle this untalented kid made it through?" George asked, probing further.
"They'd probably get dumped into Class D," Donovan said, his tone bitter. "It's the lowest class, and they don't get half the education or support the higher classes do."
George nodded thoughtfully, considering the odds. "That doesn't sound so bad. At least it's a start."
Donovan's face darkened. "You think so? The system's rigged. Some instructors make sure the noble students get matched with weaker opponents during the tests, boosting their records. The nobles end up in higher classes, while the rest are left to rot in Class D."
George sat back, absorbing the corruption within the academy. "So, if someone could fix the corruption, would there be a chance for this hypothetical untalented kid?"
Donovan laughed, shaking his head. "Even if you could do that, they'd still have one major problem."
"And what's that?"
"The Barbarians."
George blinked, confused. "Barbarians?"
"Yeah," Donovan said, his expression serious. "Everyone in the academy has some level of talent. But the ones who make everyone else cry? The Barbarians. If you end up in a class with them, you're not just competing against other students. You're competing against monsters."