Dallion was placed in group four. According to his ring echo, the group number was selected completely at random. However, based on the conversations of people who’d gone through the process before, there was a certain logic involved in the process. If the rumors were to be believed, the members of a group were selected in such a fashion so as to be complementary.

There were fourteen groups with five members each. The single exception was the fourteenth group, which was composed only of three. Based on this information, Dallion could come to two conclusions: the fourteenth group was the strongest, also the failure of a single group member likely resulted in the failure of the entire group.

“Which group are you in?” Falkner asked as he followed Dallion down to the basement level.

“Four. You?”

“Four.”

That’s convenient, Dallion thought. It was also very suspicious. Nil had mentioned in passing that Falkner was supposed to be part of group fourteen, since he was vastly better equipped and prepared than the other candidates.

“So, what was your trial with March like?” Falkner asked, a tad more eagerly that Dallion would have liked.

“We fought, she won, I lost,” Dallion mumbled. There was no need to elaborate further. “Hardly any surprises there.”

The room selected for their group was small—more like a closet than an actual room—with large comfortable chairs and a small table in-between. Interestingly enough, Dallion had seen several identical rooms on the way here. Given how well they were kept and the quality of the furniture inside, they had to be used for something more than newbie selection.

Three of the seats were already occupied by the time Dallion and Falkner arrived. Two boys and a girl sat there, all approximately the same age as Dallion. Judging by their gear they seemed a lot more prepared for the trial than him.

“Looking for group four?” The only girl in the room asked. She was tall and lanky, with short black hair and multiple piercings in both ears. It was no surprise to see that all piercings were made of star silver. Judging by her clothes and additional equipment, she had to be at least well off.

“Yep.” Dallion took the harpsisword off his back and took a seat. “I’m Dallion.”

The three in the room looked at each other but didn’t give their names. They did appear interested in Dallion’s choice of weapon, though. The one to Dallion’s left—a large youth who could pass as a bodybuilder in another world, frowned, then crossed his arms in disapproval.

Well, this was definitely going to be fun, Dallion thought.

“Falkner,” Falkner said with a smile, and took his seat.

The name received immediate reaction, causing everyone to stir. The girl even gave a curt nod in response. Either Falkner’s family was more important than he claimed, or rumours about Dallion had already spread throughout the guild. Thinking back, several awakened had come to check him out at Hannah’s inn. It was very possible that some of them were from the newbie members.

“Bel,” the girl said.

“Arthurows Giene,” one of the guys introduced himself. Unlike the rest, he was dressed in simple clothes without visible weapons or jeweler items. He was the sort of person who’d vanish in the crowd. Nondescript to the extreme—average face, average pale skin tone, average short brown hair, average brown eyes… And still his body posture and facial expression made up for it. The first thing that came to mind upon seeing him was the notion of a charming trickster. “And this here is Cellano.” He tapped the muscular guy on the shoulder. “I take it it’s the first time for you?”

“It is for me.” Falkner nodded.

“For me as well,” Dallion looked around. Other than the chairs and a few poorly drawn paintings, there was nothing of interest in the room. “Any idea how this goes?”

“You can say that.” Arthurows laughed. “It’s my fifth time. That said, two of the times I was so drunk I couldn’t make it to the exam room, so those don’t count.”

That was hardly a good excuse. It also didn’t explain why he failed the remaining three. Judging by his carefree nature, Arthurows wasn’t too much concerned with the outcome.

“I have a good feeling about this one, though,” he continued. “And even if it doesn’t work out, there’s always next time. The main thing is not to stress about it. Even temps get missions. As long as you’re not a total mess up or cause problems for the guild, you’re good to go.”

Dallion nodded, though was far from convinced. “From what I understood, if one fails the entire group fails?”

“Nah, nothing like that. It’ll be a bit more difficult, but unless half the party gets kicked out, we’ll have no trouble.”

The girl snorted audibly. Clearly, she wasn’t of the same opinion.

“Also, there’s a trick.” Arthurows leaned forward. “All you have to do is—”

“Is not to listen to stupid advice.” Estezol appeared at the entrance, carrying a tray with fourteen strange looking daggers. Dallion had no idea what material they were made of, but it wasn’t anything he had seen before. The blades were pitch black, as if made of granite, while the hilts ranged from metallic-pearl to deep red jade. “Up to your usual tricks, Art?” The bearded man took one of the knives and put it on the table.

“Not at all, sir.” Arthurows shrugged with the most innocent impression Dallion had ever seen. “Just letting them know the ropes. Can’t have my party fail, after all.”

“How considerate.” Estezol sighed. “Everyone grab hold of the dagger.”

Bel was first to put her finger on the hilt of the weapon, followed by Falkner, then the rest.

Sphere Item Awakening

Sphere item? Dallion wondered. It didn’t take long for him to get a grasp of what that meant. It wasn’t a room they had entered, but it wasn’t a domain, either. The closest thing Dallion could compare it with was a cave or some sort.

The DAGGER is Level 3 of 5

You are at the START of the DAGGER’s first level.

Unseal all levels to fulfil the DAGGER’s destiny.

Dallion kept staring at the blue rectangles. This was the first time he had seen such a change in description. So far, every realm, be it that of an item, person, or area, had its destiny open to change. In this case, all that he could do was fulfil whatever destiny the item had.

Looking around, Dallion saw that all five members of his group were present. Based on appearance, all of them had at least two skills, as well as armor, and several weapons at their disposal. A few steps away there was another person present, one who hadn’t been in the guild room moments ago.

“Hello, group four,” a tall man in a hooded cloak said. Even in the darkness Dallion could clearly see his face, which had the color of molten bronze. As far as anyone could tell, the man had no weapons or armor, wearing nothing but a standard adventurer gear. “I’m Vend, a guild elite, and I’ll be observing your progress during this selection trial.”

“Weren’t there supposed to be two?” Dallion whispered to Falkner.

“Indeed, Dal,” the man said sharply. “Normally, two observers are required. However, since you’re the oldest group among all candidates, it was decided that you have the maturity to act like responsible adults and not run down every corridor like a herd of cats.”

There were a few chuckles.

“Levels and skills,” the elite said.

“Don’t you have that information already?” Falkner asked. “If I’m not mistaken, that was sent along with my introduction letter when I applied.”

“Yes, I do.” Vend gave Falkner a cold glare. “However, you don’t. This isn’t a solo battle. The first rule when in a party is to know your strengths and weaknesses before you enter battle. In my book that’s already a failure, but rules require me to give you a chance to kill yourself in actual battle.”

Already failed? That wasn’t a good start. Whoever Vend was, he didn’t like to have his time wasted, and he definitely didn’t think much of the group.

“Well?” He crossed his arms.

“Falkner, level seven,” the black-skinned boy continued unphased by the instructor’s warning. “Attack, guard, acrobatics, and athletics.”

Having four skills, even if they were the most common, was no joke, not to mention he seemed to be about five years younger than Dallion.

“Attack, guard, and athletics,” Cellano muttered. His voice was higher than Dallion imagined it would be. “Level six.”

“Level eight, attack, guard, and acrobatics,” Bel said, glancing around with an air of superiority.

“Same.” Arthurows smiled. “Only, I’m a level seven.”

“Attack, guard, and music,” Dallion said. He very much wanted to ask Nil for information about sphere objects, but for the time being, that was impossible. “Level six.” And to boot, he was the lowest level in the group.

“Now that you know each other, which you should have done at the start, I’ll tell you about the trial.” Vend turned away from the starting point. “There—”

“Excuse me,” Dallion interrupted. “What is a sphere item?”

The guild elite paused, then briskly turned around, glaring at Dallion. Everyone in the group took a step back.

So much for group solidarity, Dallion thought.

“Anyone care to explain?” Vend asked. The silence only made Dallion feel worse. “Sphere items are special. No one forges them anymore. We don’t know where they come from, or who made them, we only know that they come from an age before the empire. Most of them are found in the wilderness. Some are bought by nobles, some are given to the Order of the Seven. The rest circulate between shops and merchants. Sooner or later the items make their way here either as payment, or as a job.”

That was a lot of new information right there. The moment he was done with the trial, Dallion was definitely going to ask Nil about details. All this talk of artefacts and a world before the empire piqued his interest. Could this be connected to Ogre Gorge near his village?

“Sphere items cannot be improved or mended,” Vend continued. “Their destiny is preset, divided into levels, each protected by a guardian. With each level cleared, the item regains part of its abilities. Sometimes it’s noticeable, other times not. When you unseal all of its layers, however, a transformation takes place, changing the item into what it was supposed to be. The item we are now in is called a black-blade dagger. As you’ve read on the awakened note, it has five levels in total. Three of them have already been cleared. However, due to the item’s nature you’ll have to defeat each of them once more.” There was a noticeable pause. “Your goal is to clear the item’s third level. If you do, consider yourselves accepted.”

On the surface, it seemed like a simple job, though Dallion suspected it wasn’t. For one thing, why did it require an entire group for such a task? Also, why had only three of the levels been cleared?

“Should you clear all five levels, you get to keep the item.”

“Really?” Falkner gasped. “All of us get a copy?”

“There are no copies. Only the person who’s contributed the most will keep the prize.”

Everyone looked at each other. Already plans were being made—how would they reach the end of level five, and what should be done to ensure they had contributed most. Logically, that meant that the person who killed the most guardians would get the dagger.

“You cannot force anyone to remain in the trial,” Vend added. “You can quit at any time. If you do so before the completion of level three, you’ll fail. Of course, if you’ve shown some remarkable skill or ingenuity by then, you might get a second chance.”

Things were starting to make sense. Five people, five levels, five guardians. If the strength of the guardians increased in linear fashion, it would take all five of them to defeat the last. That meant that the person who defeated the first guardian would have a significant advantage over everyone else.

“Does the strength of the guardian depend on the number of people?” Dallion asked.

“The guardians are always the same, only you get weaker the further you go.” Vend crossed his arms. “One final detail. If this echo is killed before you clear level three, the entire group will automatically fail.”