More than 20 years prior
The Royal Academy was made of splendid white marble that had been refined and enchanted by the best workers on Epretos. The blocks had been shipped from Amorium’s quarries that, albeit less productive since the economy had shifted to food production, were still the best source of marble on the continent.
Aspiring [Royal Guards] had taken the exam today. Many had come and been tested in the merits of their classes and their overall knowledge—many had failed.
Only the best of the best became [Royal Guards]. They were the Elves’ last real defense. Even the military could not be compared even remotely to the élite corps that conducted the most difficult and perilous operations on account of the Royalty.
With an average of more than ten levels higher than the best [Soldiers], rivaling most [Captains] in skill, they were hard to raise but even harder to beat.
Many of those who considered a military career for themselves considered a future as a [Royal Guard] their ultimate dream. It was the ultimate form of service for the Kingdom of Lucerna.
A young man with a square jaw and an irritating smirk was talking to one of the many [Clerks] working at the Royal Academy.
“Sir, these are the papers,” the [Clerk] said laconically. “You passed. Take a step to the right and exit the line. The [Instructors] will come soon and explain the next step of the process.”
“Rotten roots,” the young man laughed out loud, “I couldn’t see myself not passing! This is great! Thank you!” He grabbed the [Clerk]’s hand and shook it energetically as the counterpart gave him a pained gaze in response.
“Sir, to the right, please.”
“Alright, alright,” the man stepped away from the line, and an [Instructor]—well, a [Royal Instructor], pointed to a huge double door.
“That way if you passed. Show me your papers.”
The young man did and got a nod in response.
“You can go. The second stage will be explained shortly.”
“Thank you,” the young man nodded and started walking.
He had passed the first test with flying colors. He was twenty-three, and he had studied as long as he had memory to pass the knowledge part of the test. From politics to geography and combat formations, a lot had to be covered if you wanted to enter the ranks of the [Royal Guards]. But he had finally done it.
Helps that I was the best of the whole lot with a weapon, he smiled to himself. His instructors had repeatedly told him not to gloat about his capabilities and that being a [Royal Guard] was much more than simply being good with a weapon. But how could a red-blooded young man not be proud of being that good?
Before long, all of those who had successfully completed the initial phase were guided to the heart of a grand hall, its structure supported by towering square marble columns. At the center of the hall was a recessed area, encircled by a series of small staircases. Each person descended these steps and waited patiently in the recess. They anticipated the arrival of a group of instructors who would soon gather before them at a higher elevation—the instructors would be standing at the top of the stairs, overlooking the assembly.
Everyone was understandably getting fidgety.
The young man saw many students start to chat and ask people they knew if they had any idea what the second test would be this year.
To become a [Royal Guard], you would first have to pass a general qualification that would allow you to take the first test; this first test had always been the same for everyone. There was no difference from year to year, but it was, nonetheless, hard. You could not fake knowledge or competence when the [Royal Instructors] had been trained to spot cheaters and, in some extreme cases, execute them on the spot.
The second stage was famous for being the one where most people would fail. Every year it represented a different challenge. It could be some incredible physical feat, like marching and storming a fort in the middle of a marsh, solving murders inside a city, or even decoding encrypted messages from foreign units that would soon attack your position.
“SILENCE!” A voice suddenly boomed from up the steps, and everyone felt their ears ring.
A skill, the young man thought.
“You have all passed the first test. I will spare you my congratulations. I’m [General] Manfredus, and I’ve been brought here to ensure that no weak-spined Elf will enter the Royal Guard!”
The man spoke with intent, and his voice boomed across the marble hall.
“My test will be simple. You will have seven days to reach the Island of Florientia, find the signs of the [Royal Guards] and the dead drops they have left, fight terrible monsters, and return with them. Four hundred of you made it here, but this year, only a hundred will make it to the fold since there are only twenty dead drops. Speed, recon, fighting: this stage will test every single ability required from a [Royal Guard]. It normally takes a week for a civilian to reach the Island.”
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A few murmurs could be heard before a guy asked, “Sir! You said there are twenty drops? How can a hundred people pass?”
“I can see that an idiot made it through the first test somehow! TEAMS! You’ll all have to form teams to pass the test. The upper limit for a team is six people! You can go with less if you feel so! Now, stop with the stupid questions and start forming up the teams!”
…
The young man looked around himself to see if he could spot the best people to complete the mission with. The [General] had said they could take less than six, but it sounded like a terrible idea if they had to investigate the whole island for the signs. He did not have a single skill for recon or exploration—the first thing he needed was to find a [Rogue] classer.
Before he could move half a step into the crowd, someone put a hand on his shoulder.
“Hello!” He heard a man’s voice and turned to a rather skinny man who had dirty blonde hair and green eyes. “Lucianus is the name,” he said, holding his hand out.
The young man looked him up and down and immediately turned away.
I can’t waste my time on guys like this one.
“Oy, Arminius, are you sure you don’t need me?”
Arminius suddenly turned to face the man with a big grin on his face.
“How do you know my name?” Arminius asked, confused.
“How? You’re the best damn [Swordsman] in this batch,” Lucianus winked. “How could I not know it?”
“I never spoke to you,” Arminius reiterated. “Nor to anyone else here.”
“It’s my job to know things,” Lucianus said with a smile and popped a knife out of his sleeve, making it spin on top of his index finger. “I am silent, fast, and I know a bunch of things. Want to partner up? I don’t fancy fighting them big monsters by myself. Florientia is swarming with some huge Aracnolids this time of the year, and I’m sure the [Royal Guard] put them in a frenzy just to welcome us. I’m fast, but those overgrown spiders have super senses. I can’t just evade them. That’s why a balanced team is so important. I need someone who can cut through those disgusting spiders.”
Arminius stared at the man and made a quick decision.
“You’re in. I didn’t even know which monsters we were going to face. You just saved me the time I would have spent inquiring about it. Do you have any ideas about transportation?”
“I have some contacts in the capital, but it’s still going to be a rush job. Enchanted horses and wasting coin—that’s the best we can do. As for reaching the island… I’m sure they planted something around the shipyard, and I don’t really have many contacts that far.”
“We’ll figure something out,” Arminius nodded, now shaking the man’s hand. “Any other ideas as to whom we should ask to join the team”?
“See that man leaning against the column?” Lucianus said, raising his arm as he put the other one around Arminius’s shoulder and pointing at a rather skinny guy.
“Another [Rogue]?” Arminius frowned. “Aren’t you enough? We need some muscles if we want to get through Florientia without dying.”
Lucianus smiled widely and ruffled Arminius’s hair before jumping back.
“That man is Drusillus, the [Blacksmith]-[Warrior]. No one knows his class, but he’s already close to level 20 in both and looking for a merged class between the two. He wears heavy plates in combat, one-inch-thick. I don’t know how he can do that, but he’s the sturdiest warrior we can hope for.”
Arminius was left speechless by that information. He looked at this supposed steel-clad warrior again and couldn’t picture the skinny man leaning against the column in such an extremely heavy plate.
“Trust me,” Lucianus said, “it’s my job to know things. Ask him. He probably knows you.”
Arminius decided to trust the man by his side since he had already shown to know a lot about him.
“Hi,” Arminius said, approaching this Drusillus and extending a hand. “I’m Arminius. That guy is with me, a [Rogue]. We need more muscle to take care of the Aracnolids.”
Drusillus barely acknowledged Arminius’s presence and briefly licked his lips before nodding.
“I’m in,” he said, not shaking his hand but simply walking to Lucianus.
Drusillus had barely any facial expressions when he spoke the next words as the three reunited. “We need some magic,” he said.
“Magic?”
It wasn’t any of the three men to have said that, but a charming woman wearing chainmail and a pair of leather leggings. She had vivid green hair and a pair of emerald-like eyes to go with it.
Arminius felt his heart skip a beat in front of such a beautiful woman.
“Hello,” she smiled charmingly. “I’m Mercuria. [Squire]-[Mage] hoping for a merger. Just heard that you need a [Mage]. I have several utility spells to identify and dispel anything that might cause a problem. Also, I have ten levels in [Enchanter] since, well, I did two years at the Nine Towers and thought it would be my future, but I found it so boring and full of politics. Enrolling seemed much more fun. So, can I join?”
The girl had spoken more words in one mouthful than Arminius had heard from Drusillus and Lucianus combined.
“Sure,” Arminius swallowed. “We needed a [Mage] anyway. If you can also defend yourself, that’s great.”
“Agreed,” Drusillus shrugged and stared at the ceiling.
Lucianus squinted at Mercuria, probably trying to recall any information he might have heard about the girl.
“So, is this it?” She asked. “Do we need someone else? I suggest we start running for it as soon as possible. No stops.”
“Agreed,” Drusillus said again without even looking at them.
“We might—” Arminius was about to say something when a slimy fellow emerged from the crowd. He had a lick of hair glued to his already receding hairline and was on the shorter end of Elven stature.
“Hello,” he said with a slick smile. “Are you guys looking for more hands?”
Arminius looked at the man from head to toe, frowning.
He didn’t look like much of a warrior, but he had been wrong two times in a row with Lucianus and Drusillus, so he turned to the former.
Lucianus shrugged, shaking his head.
No information on this one?
“What are you good at?” Arminius asked.
“Solving problems,” the man smiled. “You can take out a truth-stone if you want.”
“Truth,” Lucianus spoke, already glancing at the ring on his finger. “He’s telling the truth.”
“We might as well get another warrior on deck, then. As long as your ears are not too green, I guess. It’s a big island. But this is it, no more people. Let’s just get going. And by the way, my name is Arminius,” Arminius extended his hand, and the short fellow snapped his arm forward surprisingly quickly and grasped the offered limb at the forearm.
“Nice to meet you, Arminius. My name is Aurelianus.”