Azriel followed closely behind Klaus through the cleaned streets of Leonna. The sheer quantity of people surrounding them in all directions was unnerving to Azriel, but he was starting to acclimate to it. Close behind him followed Klaus’s ward and guardian.

Klaus’s ward was a tall butler-type character who wore a monocle and had a greyed posh mustache. The man was old but not feeble. Azriel could sense that underneath his clothing resided a robust chiseled frame that would put to shame many o’ warriors.

They weaved their way through the claustrophobic city streets coming upon a bakery. The smell of fresh bread overcame Azriel and stopped him in his tracks. Klaus noticing this signaled to his ward that he wanted to go in to buy some of the fresh loaves.

Klaus grabbed Azriel by the wrist, dragging him inside. The room was hot from the magical furnaces that produced heat without a flame. On a long table sat neat, orderly-placed bread loaves shaped like round mushroom tops that twisted into a spiral at the center.

Klaus addressed one of the bakers standing beside the table, asking for three loaves and how much it would cost. His ward ponied up the coin before putting the rest back into his coat pocket, as Klaus took the three loaves handing two to Azriel and keeping on for himself. “Here, I know you’re a big eater, so have two.”

Azriel thanked Klaus as they headed out the door and back into the city streets. When Klaus finished chewing his first bite from his respective loaf, Azriel had already snarfed down half of one of his. Klaus laughed, choking on a chunk of bread.

After spending a bit more time exploring the city, the time had come to make their way to the city courtyard. It was a long walk as the capital was enormous, and they could’ve easily gotten lost had Klaus’s ward not been there to guide them, but they eventually made it to the courtyard at the center of the city.

In the courtyard, many civil and logistical faculties surrounded a beautiful hexagonal, red-bricked cul-de-sac with a concrete fountain shaped like a well-proportioned naked woman. The children of many noble families and their guardians were crowded around the fountain. Near the edges and separated from the nobles were the young commoners who wanted to be trialed and entered into the Knight’s Academy.

After a bit of waiting around, people emerged from a tower as a sort of projection appeared above the fountain. A grizzled-looking man appeared in the projection. The man’s face was covered in scars, and he wore an eyepatch over his left eye.

He opened his mouth to speak. His voice loudly resonated throughout the courtyard, “Due to increasing demand to enter into the Azurellione Knight’s Academy, we, the council presiding over the academy, have unanimously agreed to raise the minimum skill requirement for this year’s entries from four skills to five. All who have less than five skills may not be entered into the trial, and I must ask that you return home. We’re sincerely sorry for any inconveniences this may’ve caused.”

Azriel watched as the overwhelming majority of commoners sunk their heads in anguish. Many began crying, and some even started yelling profanities at the projection. Meanwhile, only a few of the nobles seemed affected in a manner liken to the commoners. Some even sneered and sadistically laughed at their perceived inferiors.

Klaus’s eyes widened as he turned to Azriel, inquisiting, “A-Azriel. Do you happen to know how many skills you have?”

Azriel lied, “No,” and shook his head. His father’s fourth rule was to not tell anybody under any circumstance about his skill Ultimate Experience or Status Menu, especially Status Menu for it was a skill all reincarnations had. He couldn’t say he knew his skills or how many he had as it would implicate he had found a means of discovering them, which he typically wouldn’t have had given his background.

Klaus looked as though his heart was going to shatter. His only friend—the only one with whom he could relate—was likely to have to leave him, and so soon after they had met. “How many times must this happen?” he contended. He was sick of people leaving him alone, alone and forgotten.

Azriel picked up on his gloom, reassuring him, “Don’t worry, I’m certain I have at least five skills, if not more. After all, my parents did descend from the Nubi Desert. Those with less than five skills don’t live long there, right?”

Klaus rubbed his reddened eyes and responded, “Y-Yeah, I know.”

The grizzled man in the projection continued, “The trial will be composed into three parts. First, you must prove that you indeed have five or more skills apart from ones granted to vessels. We will be handing out status tablets to every applicant.”

Azriel was worried immediately upon hearing this. It was said that the god Logos knew all skills that existed and that they would be revealed within the status tablets. If that were true, it would mean using them would expose the skills that could implicate him as being a reincarnation.

He was starting to have cold feet. Nowhere along the way had anyone told him that his skills would have to be revealed, nor did his father seem to have any insight into that being the case either. He made it quite clear to Azriel that people who were found to be reincarnated were dehumanized and treated like slaves for their unique skills.

The old man in the projection sighed, “Once you have finished, we will then have you demonstrate your basic combat prowess against our martial experts. In this part, we are looking to see your raw potential so avoid using active and sustained skills. Passive skills can’t be helped, but at least make it clear to the test-giver that you have one.”

Azriel squinted at the projection while considering the terminology the man had used. Active, Sustained, Passive: the three most common skill types. Active skills described a mode of skill that needed to be activated for its effects to work, while sustained skills required activation to put the skill into effect and deactivation to end the effect. However, passive skills, on the other hand, could neither be activated nor deactivated. Their effects remained active and ever-constant.

The grizzled man cleared his throat, explaining, “After that, our test-givers will determine your eligibility, and for those who aren’t deemed eligible, we ask that you please leave to make room in the courtyard. Then from there, we will take any letters of recommendation you provide and consider them along with a demonstration of how you apply your skills, active, sustained, and/or passive.”

No sooner did these words leave the man’s lips than when a pretentious looking man wearing long flowing sackcloth robes wearing huge bulbous glasses that amplified his eyes three sizes handed Azriel and Klaus each a rectangular stone tablet with a glowing golden handprint at its center.

Azriel was certain this man was a vessel of Logos, and what he had been handed was a status tablet. He watched as Klaus pressed his hand against the yellow handprint. The print disappeared as yellow ember engravings etched themselves into the tablet before dissipating, leaving behind only the stone tablet and the words carved into it.

---

Soul Name: Klaus

Soul Skills: Increased Pain-tolerance, Double-hearted, Hastened Reflexes, Toxin Resilience, Martial Affinity, Lowlight vision

Stigma: Mark of the Monster Slayer

Vessel Skills: Silver-blooded, Silver Scales, Monsterbane, Absolute Muscle Utilization

---

“Mark of the Monster Slayer?” Azriel mused. He hadn’t a clue Klaus had a stigma, especially one he was completely unaware existed. “To what god does this mark belong?” he wondered. Moreover, the boy had a particular skill that confused Azriel: Double-hearted, a skill he had never heard of and filled him with many questions.

Klaus noticed Azriel looking at his tablet and strangely tucked it into his chest to hide away as though it were something that he was insecure about or something that gave reason to act standoffish, act aloof. Azriel didn’t want to cross any personal boundaries, so he let it go.

Looking back to the tablet in his hand, he felt a bit of restraint. He knew the worst-case scenario wasn’t that appealing. If his true identity were revealed, he might’ve been forced to fight his way out of the city. Though had that happened, his parents would’ve been very ashamed of him, one thing he wanted the least.

“Well, aren’t you going to use it?” Klaus queried, denoted to Azriel’s clear hesitation.

Azriel nodded before slowly lifting his palm and resting it atop the yellow glowing handprint. He anticipated the worst outcome as he watched the brilliant golden trails disintegrate lines of indented lettering into the tablet before vanishing.

---

Soul Name: Azriel

Soul Skills: Enhanced Constitution, Hastened Reflexes, Toxin Resilience, Double-jump, Spirit-death trap

Stigma:

Vessel Skills:

---

Azriel was in disbelief when he saw neither of the two troublesome skills, he had acquired from reincarnating, were present on the list, nor were any of his other reincarnation skills.

Azriel mentally worded, “Open status menu.”

---

[Name: Azriel]

[Stigma: n/a]

[Skills: {Re} (Status Menu), {Re} (Ultimate Experience), {Re} (Sense Presence), {Re} (Enhanced Stamina), {Re} (Adept Intuition), (Enhanced Constitution), (Hastened Reflexes), (Toxin Resilience), (Double-jump), (Spirit-death trap)]

---

Azriel tilted his head back and exhaled a whopping sigh of relief.

The way the Logos status tablets were formatted made it so that only the skills of the soul and the skills of the stigma would be displayed. This signified to Azriel that skills granted to him through being reincarnated were neither coupled to his soul nor were they part of a god’s. However, this proposed a serious philosophical problem. How can a person have a skill if it wasn’t from themselves or a god?

In Azriel’s view, in his understanding for what he thought, skills were like a tangible yet metaphysical substance that existed within a person, a kind of thing written into the very core of their soul. He thought it was that same thing that a god would impart within their vessels, impart within them the powers of their own soul. However, if he was reincarnated with extra skills that weren’t a part of his soul nor a part of a god’s, that eliminated the two most likely options for how he had acquired them. They couldn’t have come from his soul, nor could they have come from the powers of a god.

Azriel stared at the tablet, feeling more mystified by these revelations about the true nature of skills than before the revelations were revealed. The ultimate irony made him feel dejected, giving him the sense that his understanding worsened. Whenever the truth revealed itself getting to it seemed to him like a goal post that kept moving backward the closer he got, or a hallway that he could see the end of, but just when he thought he had reached the door out, he realized he was back where he started.

“You must really be relieved, huh,” Klaus said, tearing Azriel away from his internal monologuing. “You’ve been standing there with your head tilted back for a while now.”

“W-What… Yeah,” Azriel murmured, regaining his focus on the events around him. Looking down, he saw his hands were empty and panicked. “Where’s the tablet-”

“You handed it to the scribe, remember?”

Azriel looked Klaus in the eyes with a serious expression before asking, “When?”

“J-Just a few seconds ago. He asked for the tablet, and you handed it to him. You didn’t even lower your head to acknowledge him addressing you.”

Azriel looked away before playing it off as though nothing had happened. He had a passing thought about something, a sort of explanation, but didn’t deliberate much further on the idea; it was unlikely and circumstantial; he quickly forgot what it was and moved on.