Demons are well known for their cruelty and duplicity. A demon will often lie or cause suffering even if it is of no benefit to themselves, simply for the enjoyment of the act. This preference is the main reason they've been unable to integrate with the Sapient races. As a result, it comes as a surprise to many that, when dealing with their own kind, demons are kind and forthright. Indeed, it seems that their malice is reserved exclusively for non-demons. It has been observed over the years many times that, unless forced by contract, a demon will never willingly cause harm to another demon. Even in cases where it would benefit the betraying demon greatly and only cause slight harm to the victim, demonkind seems completely unable to act selfishly under such circumstances. As for why they act this way, there is no easy answer. It seems that it is merely their nature.

-Excerpt from Cultures of the Nonsapient

The entertainment for the afternoon over, delvers slowly filtered out of the training room. At the approach of the elderly receptionist, the few lingering around Mud and Jabrax finally departed with a few waves and encouraging words.

"Good show kids, you'll get a good reputation around here after that display." She smiled warmly, appearing genuinely happy for the pair.

"Thanks, but.." Jabrax looked towards the still burning Gene in the middle of the stone ring. "Is it okay to leave him like that?"

The older woman waved her hand dismissively. "He'll be fine, deary. He'll burn out his mana soon enough, and your Dream mana shouldn't do any lasting harm."

Jabrax's face tightened slightly at her casual comment. She seems well informed about my mana, and she could see through the mist. This woman isn't simple, thought the demon. "So, are we members of the Association now?"

The receptionist nodded gently and produced two dull copper cards. While much less impressive to look at than Thagi Ghul's, both still had the distinctive magical shimmer that indicated a genuine Association card. As Jabrax reached for them, the receptionist pulled back her arms slightly, causing her to hesitate.

"One thing first. A warning. It's not a good idea to lie to the Association, do you understand?" Her demeanor turned cold. Before, the grey hair and crows-feet made the woman appear friendly and non-threatening, but now they seemed to warn of experience and wisdom. The friendly glint in the old receptionist's eye now looked like the shining eyes of a predator. "The Association is very broad in scope, we'll even take the children of Abraxas or the one below, if they follow our rules."

Jabrax's eyes quickly scanned the room. The only people still in the room where the sleeping Gene and the rowdy Cob and Loric. Thankfully, they were distracted by their loud mocking of Gene, and were unlikely to overhear anything.

She went on. "I'm sure you have your reasons, but I expect you to tell the truth on all matters in regards to the Association. Am I clear?"

The Demon grimaced. This bag had completely seen through them, probably from the start. "Fine, I agree." Saying that, she snatched her card from the woman, who smiled lightly.

"I accept that trade." Mud reached up and took its own card.

Jabrax the Red

Low Tier 3

Mud

High Tier 1

Mud examined the card. The surface is smooth and cold. No matter how much force the golem exerted, it couldn't bend the card at all. The text appeared to be pressed into the surface of the card, but the reverse side was completely smooth and blank. Seeing no other details on the card, Mud pushed it into its robe and absorbed it inside its body, next to the dagger it kept there. By the time Mud turned its attention back to the receptionist, she had already transformed back into her kindly persona.

"Now then, you two don't need to worry about any of your information leaking from the Association. We take confidentiality very seriously. You wanted a class, right deary? This way." At that, she turned back towards the main hall, followed closely by Jabrax and Mud.

After traveling through another door and a hallway, the group finally stopped in front of a certain door. "This is it, kids. Head on in and pick yourself a class."

A monotone voice appeared to both women. "Which class is best?"

The older of the pair seemed to give it some thought, but Jabrax replied immediately, sounding bored. "Just pick the rarest option you see. That's common sense. Rarer classes are always better."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that, deary." The receptionist placed her hands on her hips and raised her eyebrows high. "There's also the matter of suitability. A person should pick the class that matches their personality and preferences best, even if it's not as rare." Turning back towards Mud, she added with a wink, "although if you see a few that all look good, pick the rarest."

Stepping to the side, she opened the door wide and pushed Mud inside with one hand. To the golem's surprise, she managed to easily slide him across the ground with no apparent effort. "Just go up and touch the sphere. The Record will help you through." At that, she closed the door behind him.

Mud found himself inside a small room, only about nine units square. Magically heated filaments covered in glass on the roof produced the only light in the room. The walls were packed with overflowing bookshelves, and in the center was a short marble pillar upon which rested a transparent blue sphere, roughly the size of a human head.

Examining the bookshelves, Mud found them to be filled with reference books about various classes. It seems that Sapients had put a large amount of research onto the subject. Scanning the books available, the vast majority were related to 'common' grade classes. One entire shelf was dedicated to only rare grade classes. Only a single book, titled What is Known of the Legendary Classes, was the only resource dedicated to classes above the rare grade.

Moving towards the sphere which shined brilliantly in the warm yellow light of the filaments, Mud brushed aside its robe and reached up with one muddy paw. Its three blocky fingers stretched out from its cylindrical arm towards the inviting blue orb. As one outstretched finger graced the orb, a burst of mana suddenly burst up the golem's arm and into its torso. Soon, the mana impacted Mud's soul, and began scouring every nook and cranny.

Foreign mana traced the lines of the Almanac skill, wrapped around the bindings of the contract, and probed the shape of The Master's orders. Every aspect of what made Mud who it is was laid bare to the orb.

Finally, after a moment that seemed to drag for eternity, the mana retreated, seemingly satisfied it had learned all it needed. As the last dregs returned to the orb, Mud felt the familiar sensation of information flowing into itself from the Akashic Record. In the golem's mind, a menu opened.