"Have you confirmed it?" The vice principal's voice was laced with tension as he stared at the principal, the weight of the conversation sinking in. He had never imagined that this was the direction things would take. "Isn't this far too risky? What if it backfires?"
The principal leaned back in his chair, his fingers interlaced in front of him as he surveyed the room. "Risky? Sure. But when hasn't it been?"
The principal, sitting nearby with a serene expression, took a slow sip of his tea, the steam curling lazily around his face. "This doesn't seem like you," he remarked with a chuckle. "Back in the day, you would've stormed in shouting 'who's afraid of who?' and smashed your way through without a second thought."
The vice principal's face reddened with frustration, his hands clenching into fists at his side. "Let's not conflate things here!" he snapped, barely holding back his anger.
"Why? Weren't your former students the same as these students now?" The principal's tone was light, but there was an edge to his words.
The vice principal scoffed, temples visibly pulsing. "I taught Paladin candidates! How is that even remotely comparable? Besides, am I famous because of my students?"
The principal raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "Oh, aren't you?"
"It's a load of rubbish!" The vice principal's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Keep pushing me, and I'll rip your office apart right now!"
"Go ahead." The principal leaned back with an amused grin, a challenge twinkling in his eyes. He had the air of someone who had seen it all and wasn't afraid of a few threats.
The vice principal leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low growl. "Fine. How about I tell everyone what your granddaughter's grandfather is really up to?"
For a split second, the principal's confident demeanor faltered. "Now hold on," he barked, the coolness draining from his face, "don't start spouting nonsense, old man!"
"Sure, but first, explain this to me: why are we sending students to these two dangerous border cities? What is your real game here?" The vice principal slammed his hand on the table. "This is what has me furious."
The principal sighed, setting his cup down with care, as if the conversation was nothing more than a minor inconvenience. "It's simple, really. The final stage of the competition needed a little… adjustment. Call it a practical test, something with real stakes. You see, I had the students sent to those cities to, well, 'toughen them up.'"
"Border cities," the vice principal muttered, pacing now, "bordering where, exactly?"
The principal looked out the window, as if reminiscing. "Ah yes. One city faces the elves, the other, the demi-human. Quite the challenge."
The vice principal froze mid-step. "The elves?" His voice rose. "That city is crawling with Black Crow operatives, smuggling elven slaves. It's only a matter of time before it turns into a warzone!"
"And the other? Demi-human territory? We're at war with them as we speak!"
The principal waved his hand dismissively. "Yes, yes, but that's all part of the plan. They need to learn what it's really like out there, beyond the academy walls."
"That's not training," the vice principal shot back. "That's throwing them into the fire! Training involves measured risk, not sending them into an active war zone!"
The principal smiled, unfazed. "Calm down, didn't I send my granddaughter along too? It's not like I'm playing favorites."
The vice principal blinked in disbelief, slowly lowering himself back into his chair. "You sent her too?" His voice softened, eyes wide with shock. "Are you out of your mind?"
Standing up, he shook his head in disappointment. "I can't believe this. The great genius of our time has finally lost his marbles."
The principal, now visibly annoyed, stood as well. "Nonsense. The students I sent are graduates; seasoned, ready for the challenge. They've been prepared for this, and besides, they volunteered."
The vice principal frowned. "Volunteered? Why wasn't I informed about any of this? We don't have jurisdiction over graduates anymore."
"Exactly. They came of their own accord, and they'll be overseeing the younger students. It's all perfectly above board."
"And the city where the Black Crows operate?" The vice principal's tone sharpened again. "Even with experienced graduates, how can we trust that they'll survive that?"
The principal's expression hardened, his tone growing serious. "This is where they'll face their greatest test; not just of strength, but of morality. When faced with corruption, will they fight for justice, even if it means going against their own? Will they have the courage to turn their weapons on the true enemy, even if that enemy wears a human face?"
The vice principal massaged his temples, his head throbbing with the weight of the situation. "What's your endgame here?"
The principal's eyes gleamed, a knowing smile spreading across his face. "In ten years, you'll understand. All of this will make sense. You just have to trust the process."
"Ten years?" The vice principal's voice was incredulous, his brows knitting in frustration. "These students graduated ages ago by then!"
The principal waved his hand dismissively, as if brushing away the vice principal's concerns. "Why are you always so hot-headed? I said ten years because I can't predict the exact timing. My blessing is from a Titan, not a divination spell."
The vice principal exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. "Alright, fine. How about I just go ahead and inform them now?" He sank back into his chair, his tone shifting to one of resignation. "At this rate, they'll arrive by this afternoon."
The principal's eyes widened in mock surprise. "So fast?"
"Well, I did serve under you in the cavalry," the vice principal shot back, standing up and gathering the documents. "I'll take these and head out now."
"Fair enough," the principal replied, settling back into his chair. "Oh, and if you find a place selling any specialty fish, bring some back for me!"
The vice principal stopped in the doorway, turning to give the principal a dry look. "In a city crawling with Black Crow spies? Don't count on it."
As the door swung shut behind him, the principal's carefree demeanor slipped away, his face tightening into a frown. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, a dark cloud of thoughts settling over him.
It was true, border cities were dangerous, especially in wartime. But what he hadn't told his granddaughter was that the rest of the country was hardly any safer. Even outside those two cities, things had grown more perilous by the day. The world was shifting, and she, along with the others, needed to be ready for it.
"Decades ago, we thought the experiment had failed," the principal muttered bitterly under his breath. "And yet, those old fools refuse to let it die. How many more will have to perish before they see reason?" He slammed his hand down on the table, the wood creaking under the force of his frustration. The table, a luxurious purchase worth millions in gold, now bore the imprint of his anger.
"Artificial gods…" he sneered, his teeth grinding together. "Madness. Pure madness." His fingers curled into fists. "Who knows if this 'God' they talk about will even listen; or worse, if they'll end up listening to it."
—---
Meanwhile, elsewhere on the academy grounds, Oliver was reclining lazily against a tree when his teacher approached, looking unusually hurried.
"The competition is over?" Oliver raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. "I thought there were still a bunch of people left to be eliminated?"
"There are about forty left," the teacher replied, scratching his head as if he wasn't entirely sure of the answer himself. "But the vice principal will make the official announcement this afternoon. You might want to get ready."
"Got it." Oliver nodded, though his expression betrayed a hint of doubt. He couldn't tell whether his teacher was being entirely truthful, but he figured there was no point in dwelling on it.
"So, what's the plan now?" Chris, one of Oliver's friends, asked.
Oliver grinned. "A good meal, of course."
Their group lived hand-to-mouth, using the money they earned yesterday to cover today's expenses, but for now, they were flush with cash and could afford a little splurge.
"Even if the teachers are playing mind games," Oliver added with a shrug, "we can hold out for another day. No big deal."
It wasn't long after noon when the vice principal finally made his appearance. Dressed in his formal attire, he looked as though he hadn't had a moment's rest all day. Without wasting any time, he addressed the group of remaining competitors.
"Everyone, you've worked hard to get to this point," he began. "I'll keep this brief. The real purpose of this competition is to select a few of you for a special mission: to be sent to one of two border cities. One city, Joshua, lies on the edge of elven territory and has yet to see war, but tensions are rising. The other, Wally, has been locked in battle with the demi-human for some time now. The principal's intention is for you to receive training there, but given the high risk, you're free to step down if you choose. Anyone who wishes to withdraw, step forward now."
Eleven of the remaining forty participants moved forward without hesitation.
"Are you going to go?" Lesley, a tall, composed woman with piercing eyes, whispered to Oliver.
"Do you want to go?" he asked in return, turning his head to gauge her reaction.
"I don't mind," she replied coolly.
"Neither do I."
At that moment, Enola, a fellow competitor, stood frozen, an anxious expression clouding her face. Oliver ignored the silent exchange between her and another competitor. His mind was elsewhere, racing with unexpected excitement. Of all the places, they were sending him to Joshua; the very city where he had once lived. A wry smile crept onto his face. If nothing else, this would be a chance to see how things had changed.
"The rest of you," the vice principal's voice broke into his thoughts, "please choose where you'll be going."
"Where are you headed?" Enola asked Lesley.
"Joshua," she replied with a sly smile. "I've never seen an elf before."
Oliver laughed quietly to himself. In that city, she should hope she doesn't see any elves.
"I'll go to Joshua too," Sandra chimed in, perhaps following Lesley's lead.
"Count me in as well," Chris added.
"I'm Joshua-bound too," Oliver finally said, the smile lingering on his lips.
His journey back to that familiar, dangerous place was about to begin.