A spider in its web, waiting for food to fall in. Immobile, only the occasional gust of wind displacing its web. Not a piece of art: holes dotted this horizontal web, longer than higher. But the spider was patient, and it would be rewarded in the end.

Silvy was looking at it: apparently, she had slept next to a spider. Not that it mattered: at least they didn’t snore.

But she was staring at it, drawing inspiration. She had to become like a spider: waiting for her prey to fall into her trap, getting her sweet revenge after that.

The problem was that she had no trap set up, or any idea on how to trap The Brothel’s faction. Her best plan was to go to the Adventurer’s Guild and leveling up. After that…

She got up, scaring a sleeping rat. Apparently, she had slept with a spider and a rat. At least they had been silent.

Getting out of the rubble, she drew the eyes of a few people, that lost interest in her just as fast.

She didn’t want to think about last night. Strangely, she didn’t feel sad: she felt like she had lost something, a void in herself, but no tears were coming. It didn’t matter now: this part of her was gone, and she had to keep going: she had done it many times in the past.

She moved through the streets with fast steps and wary eyes, a good way to show you were not an easy target and at the same time identifying and avoiding troublemakers.

The sun was high in the sky, with white clouds moving placidly. A midday breeze blew past, bringing the fragrance of summer. The weather was nice and warm.

The gates of Chilog were manned twenty-four hours a day, with soldiers replaced every eight hours. There was no crowd at the gates, but people kept going in and out in a scattered flow: farmers, adventurers, merchants, fishermen. All manner of people were moving through, but all of them were easily identifiable: farmer’s clothing, adventurer’s badge, wagons with wares pulled by horses and so on. People with no clear purpose were stopped and questioned, and then they were either allowed inside or drove away.

In this situation, a child with no guardian in sight and with poor clothing was blocked.

“Halt! Your kind is not welcomed into the city: go back to the slum, or I’ll throw you out myself.”

Silvy looked at the guard that had spoken to her, not surprised at being stopped. He was a man with a short beard, and his partner was looking over from the gate.

“Greetings guardsman. I understand my attire can be off-putting, but I come from Kertian, the town to the west. I am looking to become an adventurer, and I wish to register at the guild.”

Just another lie in the countless spoken before and not even a hard one. Be polite, be sure of yourself and people would believe you. Most of the time.

“Ah! Sure. Go back to the slums. Move!”

The guardsman started moving back to his post, dismissing her, when Silvy reached out his hand with a couple of silver coins.

“I’m sure you can find the documents speaking of my arrival, guardsman.”

Silvy didn’t even try too hard at this point: it wasn’t necessary. The guardsman looked into his hand and then closed it again.

“Ah yes, I remember. Go on, you are blocking the traffic.”

Silvy noticed that she was not, in fact, slowing down anyone, but she left it at that. She walked through the gate unimpeded and went down the main street.

She knew from the time she had lived here with her mother where the guild was, so she didn’t have to stop and ask for directions. The main street was large, but there was order in the chaos that filled it: stalls of all kinds littered the outermost part, calling out to customers, showing off their wares while trying to get a good deal; many of them had clients bargaining over their purchases with loud voices. Those customers came from the pedestrian walking in front of the stalls, but still avoiding the middle of the road. Farmers, shepherds, patrols and many other kinds of people moved about their daily life or browsing the shops. And in the middle of the road wagons and horsemen proceeded. The road was wide enough to accommodate two wagons side by side with room to spare, and traffic moved fluidly. Watching all this happening made Silvy impressed: she had always thought guardsmen were a corrupted and useless bunch, but it looked like this applied only in the slums: in here they maintained order, or at least some semblance of it.

Joining the stream of people, Silvy mixed with the crowd moving about. It was only after a few minutes of walking that she reached the Adventurer’s guild. A big building was in front of her, as large as three normal houses and with two floors. It was made out of wood like most other buildings, but you could see the attention to details in the construction: the wood was smooth and without splinters, covered in white paint; it was nothing like the houses in the slum.

The door was wide open, and Silvy saw a big hall in front of her. Tables were all around the room, and attached at the back wall was a notice-board that covered the entirety of it. Parchments of all sizes littered this board, each one of them with a stamp in the upper right corner. The majority of the stamps were ‘B’ or ‘S’ letters, a few of them with ‘G’ and a handful of ‘P’. Looking at her right she saw the reception, a few people behind, working, and in front, queuing.

She moved in the queue behind two people speaking to each other. One was a man with defined muscles, a sword at his side and a bald head. The other was younger, with ruffled hairs and a tunic: both of them had stains of green liquid and brown bits of carapace glued to them.

“-nest of them. I tell you, I’ll never forget it: I can still feel them crawling on me.”

“Twas just bugs Ivor. It’s not like they are dangerous, just annoying.”

“You are not the one who was covered in them. I swear I’ll have nightmares for a month.”

“I was the one who took a firebolt because someone started panicking! You can’t just go nuts every time a beetle is near you.”

The younger man glared at the other, but it was now their turn at the counter.

“Hey, Genne. We completed our request.”

Saying that he brought out a parchment and passed it to the receptions, which in turn gestured to a light blue tablet with an impressive smooth surface to the side.

The bald man put a hand on the tablet and started talking.

“It was a pack of 8 shadow wolves, we eliminated them all. There was no alpha in it. We destroyed a nest of mana bugs as well.”

The receptionist gave a knowing look to the young man, who returned a defiant stare, challenging her to speak.

She ignored the young man glare and watched the tablet, which produced a white light after a moment. The receptions nodded.

“Do you have the fur or the bodies of the wolves?”

The bald man brought out a pouch and passed it to the receptionist. After looking inside for a moment she spoke.

“I’ll have your reward in a moment. The skinning cost will be subtracted from it, as always.”

She walked in the back of the reception, and after touching a safe that opened automatically, she took out some coins. She then went to a different room and re-emerged after a few seconds, still with the pouch in hand.

“Here is the reward. Eleven gold coins in total. Can I do anything else for you?”

“No thanks. Have a good day, Genne.”

Saying that the two men turned around, noticing Silvy for the first time. Both of them were taller than her, with the bald one towering over her. There was surprise in their eyes for a moment, and then they moved to the side, eavesdropping the conversation without any shame.

The receptionist glared at them, but in response they ignored her, pretending they weren’t doing anything strange. She turned to Silvy, showing a friendly smile.

“Hello, Missy. Do you wish to post a request on the board? If you tell me the details, I can tell you an appropriate reward for it.”

“I wish to become an adventurer.”

There was a loud snort coming from the side, and then a loud thump followed by a yelp. Silvy looked to the side, seeing the young man rubbing his head and glaring at the bald guy, who in turn waved at Silvy with a slight smile.

“I see. By regulation, only adults can become adventurers, which means you have to be at least 15 years old. Please put a hand on this tablet and speak your age clearly. Do not worry: it is a truth tablet, and the process is neither painful nor uncomfortable.”

Bringing back the attention to the receptionist, she stumbled out the words.

“Uh - I - I’m not 15. I’m..I’m 12. Can I become an adventurer anyway? I can defend myself. I killed a wolf in the forest once.”

She regretted her words a second later: a loud laugh started at her side, cut short by a louder thump. Silvy looked again over to the two men, just in time to see the young man falling face-first onto the floor.

She ignored those two and turned back to the receptionist. The receptionist was trying to keep up her kind front, but her eyes betrayed her real thoughts. Silvy had an idea, and before doubting it, she put her hand onto the tablet and spoke quickly.

“I killed a wolf in the forest: his fur was almost like a shadow.”

She waited for a moment, and a red light came out of the tablet. The receptionist sighed and looked at her with pity. The tablet was lying! She had killed a wolf in the forest! Or maybe...

She put her hand on the tablet again, feeling stupid.

“I killed two wolves in the forest. They both had fur that looked like a shadow.”

The receptionist shook her head, opening her mouth to speak. Then a white light came out of the tablet, and her eyes bulged, mouth locked open. She looked at the tablet shocked, and then at the side. The bald man now had a severe look in his eyes, while the young one looked mildly surprised: he started walking towards the counter, disregarding Silvy.

“Oh my, a malfunctioning truth tablet. I’ve never seen it happen. Do you thi-”

The bald man grabbed the young one from the clothes, pulling him away with a yelp and looking at the receptionist with a serious expression.

“Is it really broken? Can they actually break?”

Genne blinked her eyes, recovering from the surprise. She shook her head.

“No, I mean yes, they can break, but they won’t show any result at that point. But they are never wrong.”

The group of people turned their heads to Silvy, who was watching with an irritated look and folded arms. Why were they not trusting her?

“Pardon me, I didn’t expect you to be so capable at your age. But even if you can handle a Shadow Wolf or two, you still have to be tested by a silver rank member or higher. That is the protocol for people below the age of fifteen: there is a fee as well, five silver. And we’ll pay for the bodies of the wolves if you have them.”

Silvy rummaged through her pouch, bringing out five silver. She felt bad at spending so much money: in barely an hour she had already spent seven silver, an amount that would feed her for days.

“Ok, I’ll post the request on the board then-”

“We’ll take it.”

The bald man interrupted the receptionist, watching Silvy with interest, while the young one was displeased.

“And why would we take it? I want a bath, and just to be clear, I have no intention of testing her.”

The bald man rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed at his companion.

“I will do it, don’t worry. Crybaby.”

Genne looked at the bald man with worry.

“You do know you have to go easy on her, right? Any and all damages took by the structure or her will be paid by you, Eiram. Is that clear?”

Eiram was hurt by the lack of trust shown by the receptionist, and it clearly showed on his face.

“What, of course, I will go easy on her! I’m not some kind of monster, you know!”

Shaking her head, Genne looked at Silvy.

“Well, you have an examiner now. Wait for me at the tables. I’ll reach you in a minute; I need to prepare first.”

Eiram moved away from the counter, followed by Ivor and after a moment by Silvy. They reached a table where a young woman was sitting with her head on the table, eyes closed. She had long brown hair and a pretty face. A bow was propped against her chair, a quiver at her feet.

“Hey Vilza, I’m going to test this rookie now. It won’t take long, so don’t go anywhere.”

The young woman named Vilza opened her eyes, looking from Eiram to Silvy. She watched Silvy for a few seconds with muddled eyes and then jumped upright.

“You are going to test her? She’s a child! I’m doing it.”

Eiram shook his head and finger.

“Ah-ah-ah, she’s mine. They are already doing the paperwork. She killed two Shadow Wolves single-handedly, you know. And it’s not like I don’t know how to restrain myself.”

Vilza’s glance moved from Eiram to Silvy, unconvinced, and then took a deep breath.

“Alright, but I’m coming as well. And I will intervene if I decide you are going too far. With an arrow.”

“Yes, yes, feel free to do it. Now, we didn’t get to introduce ourselves. We are the Shimmerskull, Silver rank team. I am Eiram, captain of the team. She is Vilza, our [Archer], and he is Ivor, our [Mage]. Do not worry about the test; it’s a spar between you and me. I’ll go easy on you, but you have to try your hardest, got it?” Eiram said.

Vilza was smiling and waving at Silvy, while Ivor was more interested in removing bits of bugs from his tunic.

Silvy looked at Eiram, his friendly smile, and then made the connection between the name of the team and his head. She ignored that thought and politely introduced herself.

“I am Silvy. Ehm, I come from Kertian, west of here. I want to be an adventurer. Pleased to meet you.”

Eiram nodded and chatted with Silvy until Genne arrived with a scroll. They talked about their latest gain: they had killed eight Shadow Wolves, and Ivor had been the victim of a nest of Mana Bugs, a type of beetle highly attracted to spells; that was why they were covered in bits of them.

The group moved to a door left of the counter leading to a courtyard. It was a big space, surrounded by a metal fence. In the middle were two spacious rectangles, delimited by a white line on the ground.

There was no one around, and Genne moved to the left arena, followed by the others.

A rack with different kinds of weapons, all made of wood, were on display on the side of the arena. Eiram went up to it and picked a sword, dropping the belt with his normal sword on the ground.

Ivor and Vilza followed Genne, staying outside the line. Vilza grabbed her bow and nocked an arrow, true to her word, while Ivor sat on one of the chairs, looking impatient. Genne opened the scroll, and a light shimmer went up from the line on the ground.

“Pick up a weapon or use your focus if you are a mage. Eiram is a [Bulwark] gold rank, so don’t worry about hurting him. Start when you are ready and good luck!” said Genne.

Silvy looked at the rack. There were a couple of bows with some padded arrows, a really long sword, a few daggers, some maces and hammers, and, obviously, shortswords.

It was an impressive collection, but all of them were made of wood, in some cases with leather added to cushion the impact. She gingerly took a shortsword and felt danger coming from behind.

She turned, seeing Eiram attacking with a swing. It was slow, wide and high: it was obvious he didn’t want to hurt but test her.

She waited for the sword to come closer, and then ducked low, extending her body forward at the same time. She touched the ground with her left hand to support her weight and stabbed towards Eiram.

Eiram hadn’t expected such move, but he had a lot of fights behind his back: he stepped back, effortlessly dodging her blow.

“Good reaction kid! Remember, monsters won’t wait for you: they surprise you, from behind, from above or below. Always keep your guard up.”

Saying that he took a guarding stance, waiting for Silvy to make the first move. Silvy had never used a shortsword before, but she had an advantage. She let herself be guided by her Skill, [Basic Piercing Style]. Her stance got lower and wider, turning slightly to the left. Her right arm was extended in its entirety, pointing the sword toward Eiram, while the left arm was on her hip.

Eiram looked at her stance, giving a slight nod. “Not bad for an amateur. Do you have a Skill for that? No matter. Come at me!”

She moved while he was talking, searching for any advantage, stabbing, cutting and slashing, dancing around her opponent, dodging each strike coming from him. She could feel he was not really trying, as his blows were slow and easy to predict; she was quite sure she was striking better than him right now. But no matter how she tried, his blade was always there to parry, block, and then riposte, and he still hadn’t moved after his initial dodge.

“Let’s see how far you can go, kid!” Eiram said smiling, not even breathing hard: he was on another level.

His cuts started to become faster, harder to predict. Silvy went on the defensive, managing to squeeze an attack only a few times. And the pace kept rising, Eiram now closing in to put more pressure.

She couldn’t do it, couldn’t beat him: not this way. She couldn’t attack anymore: she was completely concentrated on dodging, parrying and moving around, without the time or opportunity to strike him back, his speed and strength too overbearing.

The blade was now coming from the left, straight for her head. She could block the blow with the sword, but that would mean the situation wouldn’t change, so she changed plans. She called forth her energy blade to block the blow, her wooden sword thrust towards his guts.

Eiram saw her not blocking and was disappointed. This girl was clearly an amateur with a sword: her style was barely there. But she was doing good, more than good: she could easily be a Silver rank. She was keeping up with him, dodging and blocking strikes that would trouble Silver rank, but her stamina was her strongest point: she wasn’t breathing hard, wasn’t tired, and her performance had been consistent throughout the duel. Alas, she was still young and hotheaded. He rotated the blade to hit with the flat, and then something slowed it in mid-air. The blade almost stopped for a moment, as if the sword was in the water: Eiram pushed harder, restarting the swing. Meanwhile, he sidestepped the incoming thrust, forced to move faster than he had for the whole duel thanks to Silvy ignoring her defense.

Silvy went for it, and then she felt as if a mountain had slammed into her head, messing her up completely. Her energy blade failed, vaporizing almost all of her energy in a moment, making her fall to the ground.

“What was that?! My eyes are burning at such a shameful display! Such an unrefined use of mana, to block a blow, nonetheless! Who the heck taught you, Miss? Such a horrible misuse of magic! Argh!”

Silvy looked toward the voice with difficulty and saw Ivor with a pained and angry expression. He was fuming red, standing up and stomping the ground while pointing at her.