Pretending To Be God

Chapter 11: Academy Inquiry Part 1

The Emerald City Guards stood in a group, their numbers seeming small compared to the grandeur of Emerald City\'s military. With a measly count of 2051 by international standards, they were well aware of their limited manpower. But these guards were not ordinary recruits; they were the cream of the crop, chosen from the best students of the academy who were committed to protecting the city.

Among them was Mason Wolfe, an esteemed graduate ranked 10th in the academy. While his comrades worked on repairing the broken front wall breached by the notorious Wizard Lumindra, Mason stood guard on the city walls.

"Why do these wizards have to give us crap? What did we do?" complained a guard, his hands busy fixing cracks in the wall with cement.

"Shut up!" another guard whispered, cautioning everyone to keep their voices down in case Oz was listening.

"I don\'t care. Those wizards can kiss my-" The guard\'s voice trailed off, interrupted by the arrival of the Chief Guard emerging from the wall rubble, demanding silence from the guards.

"Donovan," the Chief Guard called out, and the guard known for his "heretical" opinions stepped forward, expecting punishment.

"Yes, Chief?" Donovan replied nervously, bracing himself for reprimand.

"Someone from the castle is waiting for you in the cafeteria. Just make sure anything you said doesn\'t reach the Wizard\'s ears," the Chief Guard continued, glancing at the other guards. "You guys can take a break too."

#

The Emerald City Guard cafeteria buzzed with activity during lunchtime. Guards filled the space, hungry and eager to devour the meal prepared for them. Amidst the familiar faces, Donovan sat alone at a separate table, accompanied by an unfamiliar man.

"Uhmm," Donovan tried to find words to break the silence, but his mind seemed to betray him, leaving him at a loss for what to say.

"I\'m Detective John Sterling," the man introduced himself, his middle-aged appearance adorned with a black hat and a dark coat. He smiled and removed his hat, revealing neatly combed hair.

"A detective?" Donovan, having never heard of such a title in his long career as an Emerald City Guard, was intrigued. "What does that mean?"

George Sterling, disguising himself as John Sterling, flashed a smile. "I\'m glad you asked. The Great Wizard has bestowed this title upon me. I investigate crimes and work towards improving the safety and quality of life for all citizens of Emerald City."

George had taken the initiative to seek someone with firsthand experience in the non-magic sector of the academy. His plan was simple: if this plan seemed impossible, he would retreat; if there was even a glimmer of hope, the academy was where he would go.

"I see... So, am I under investigation? Did I do something wrong?" Donovan\'s anxiety heightened as he wiped away beads of sweat.

George, having been a lawyer for half a decade, possessed an acute sense of detecting truth and falsehood. His experience of defending clients against AI prosecutors made him one of the best human lawyers to this day. As he observed Donovan, the guard appeared far more suspicious than the worst liars George had encountered.

"Don\'t worry, Donovan. You\'re not in trouble. I just need you to answer a few questions about your time in the academy," George assured him, hoping to put the guard at ease.

"Scared? Hahaha... That\'s funny. It\'s just hot in here, that\'s all," Donovan replied, attempting to dismiss any notion of fear.

"How?" George glanced out the window, noticing a slight drizzle and a cool breeze wafting into the room. "Uh, sure, anyway, would you mind telling me about your experience in the academy?"

Wiping his brow, Donovan chuckled, "Sure, man. I honestly thought you were going to kill me for talking bad about the Wizard, son of a..." He caught himself midsentence, locking eyes with George.

George sat speechless, astounded by Donovan\'s lack of restraint with his words. "Don\'t worry about it. I\'ve heard that the Great Wizard is very forgiving."

"Yes..." Donovan nodded, determined not to let another Freudian slip escape his lips.

"So, Donovan, tell me, how was the academy?" George inquired.

"It was okay. I managed to get by. I\'ve always been skilled in combat and had a good physique, so nothing bad really happened to me," Donovan replied, his voice laced with a hint of pride.

"What advice would you give to someone who is about to enter the academy and isn\'t as naturally talented in fighting?" George asked, curious about how he would fare against the other students of the academy.

Donovan laughed, "Give up!"

"Is it really that challenging?"

"Yeah, for the untalented ones, I can guarantee you this: if an untalented kid tries to enter the non-magic sector, they won\'t stand a chance to even qualify for the lowest class."

"Can you explain why?" George probed further, eager to understand the hurdles faced by those with limited aptitude.

"Well, everyone has to go through a physical test to qualify for the non-magic sector. All I know is that it involves fighting against random students, and each semester, only 200 students are accepted," Donovan explained.

"And if, by some stroke of luck, the untalented kid manages to make it through, they\'ll likely be placed in the lowest-ranking class, Class D. As you can imagine, they won\'t receive the same level of education and support as the higher-ranking classes," Donovan added, his tone tinged with disappointment.

George contemplated the information, realizing that even a small opportunity for growth would be better than merely pretending to be strong. "That doesn\'t sound too bad..."

"But it is. The ranking system is completely messed up. You\'d think the qualification test would be fair, right? But no... Some instructors rigged the test to ensure certain noble students easily defeated weaker opponents, boosting their records and placing them in higher classes," Donovan revealed.

George nodded, absorbing the corruption within the system. "So, if someone were to address the corruption issue, would there be a chance for this hypothetical untalented kid?"

"If, by some miracle, you could do that, they would still face one final challenge."

"And what would that be?"

"Everyone in the academy is talented, and the one that would make the talented ones cry is the Barbarians."