Don’t sweat it, you’ll do fine, the shield said while Dallion slowly put on his vest. Normally he’d be done in under a minute. However, today was different.

He had never felt so nervous since the day he applied for college. Now, as then, he had spent an hour contemplating what could happen before getting out of bed and spending an hour more slowly getting dressed. It was only when Nil had insistently reminded him that the only certain way to fail the trial was not to arrive on time, that Dallion “rushed” a bit.

A month had passed since the last, and only, time he had been to an Icepicker selection trial. Back then he didn’t know what was going on, so didn’t feel the pressure. Of course, back then neither he nor anyone else had particularly high expectations. Everything had seemed like a game with close to zero consequences. The stakes were much higher now.

There’s nothing to be scared of. I have this, Dallion told himself. And even if the worst came to pass, he could always try next time. He had more than enough money to survive till then, not to mention he had bought a mandolin, so he could earn even more… yet it wasn’t about the money. It was about proving to himself, Vend, and the entire world that he could pull it off. No more shortcuts, no more relying on others to get him out of a mess. This time he was going to show what he alone was capable of.

Dallion placed the harpsisword in the sheath on his back, then strapped the shield on his left arm. If the room had a large enough mirror, he’d probably spend another ten minutes looking at himself. Even without one, though, Dallion felt the need to straighten his shirt.

You look fine, the shield sighed. Absolutely gorgeous. Girls will be fainting as you pass by.

“I get it,” Dallion hissed. Somehow the guardian managed to get on his nerves, even when he was being supportive.

A few words of encouragement from Nil would have gone a long way right about now. Sadly, the echo had let him know he wouldn’t be talking until after the trial was over, describing it as a conflict of interest if he did.

At least I have Nox, Dallion thought. The crackling was to be his secret weapon, along with his new music skills. After the last three days, Dallion had increased them to thirty-two, while also boosting his attack skills to a round twenty. The numbers alone were supposed to be impressive enough to guarantee him successfully completing the trial. And still, Dallion couldn’t shake the uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“Well, time to get going,” he said out loud for encouragement.

Sure. Don’t let me keeping you, the shield chimed in

“Darude,” Dallion whispered, then left the room.

Breakfast was waiting for him when he got down, but he didn’t have any appetite. Hannah likely guessed as much because she didn’t comment on it as she usually did.

“Hey,” Dallion said, trying his best to seem confident. “I’ll be heading to the guild. Should be back in about an hour.”

“Count to seven,” the innkeeper said.

“Eh?” Dallion blinked.

“I don’t have to be awakened to tell what’s on your mind. When you’re in doubt, take a deep breath and count to seven and recite the names of the Moons in your mind. Try it out.”

“Sure.” The notion felt stupid, superstitious, or both. Regardless, Dallion did it all the same—he didn’t have any better idea of calming his nerves, and when he had tried using music on himself earlier, the result had been insignificant.

Astreza, Berennah Centor, Dararr, Emion, Felygn, Galatea…

The names passed through his mind as he thought of them. To Dallion’s astonishment, when he finished, most of his fear was gone. Eyes wide, he stared at Hannah. He felt lighter, as if the weight of the world had been removed from his shoulders.

“Told you.” The woman crossed her arms with a smirk. “Old soldier's trick. My father told me when I was a child. Never fails, as long as you don’t start relying on it above everything else.”

“I think I know what you mean.”

“Good. Now go out there and show them what you’re made of!”

This was the first time the innkeeper had encouraged him openly. Dallion was surprised to the point he didn’t know exactly how to react. In the end, a simple nod said more than words ever could. With that he left the inn and started his way to the guildhall.

Despite the shield’s insinuations, women did not faint as Dallion passed by. However, a lot noticed him, and they weren’t the only ones. It wasn’t just the two exotic pieces of gear that he carried with him—he’d carried those frequently to the guild and back—it was more about the way he walked. There was a certain attitude surrounding him, as if he was in an invisible bubble separating him from the rest of the city, almost like a mini realm of his own. The sensation was present the entire way to the guildhall, forcing the latest batch of newbies crowded outside to open a path as he made his way into the building. Only then did the feeling subside.

“Dal!” Estezol waved as Dallion entered the hall. Because of the many people gathered, only his hands were visible above everyone’s heads. “Dal, come here! Actually, don’t! Stay there! I’ll get to you.”

“Okay.” Dallion smiled. Leave it to Estezol to cheer up even the tensest day.

The small bearded man pushed his way through like a badger through corn until he got to where he needed to be.

“You had me worried.” He grabbed Dallion’s hand, pulling him in the direction of the staircase. “I was afraid you might skip out this one.”

“What made you think that?” Dallion followed behind, trying to keep his arm from getting pulled out of its socket. For a small fellow, Estezol was quite strong.

“You’ve been out of it the last few days. You’ve barely said a word during your last few jobs, you never stay at the feasts, a few times you even forgot to get your pay. I’ve been keeping it, though, so no worries there.”

Did I behave like that? Dallion didn’t remember much from the last few days. As far as he was concerned, everything was normal: guild, exploration, inn, rest, study, forging attempts, singing to the rock orchid, sleep… He hadn’t noticed himself being less or more talkative than usual. The only change was that the siblings had let him fight more guardians, and on occasions even asked him for advice.

“Probably had something on my mind.”

“I know, and I won’t blame you. It’s not every day that someone gets to make a claim like that. Completing a selection alone? You really have guts, don’t you?”

If that was supposed to be encouraging, it missed its mark by a mile. Now Dallion started asking himself questions. Back when he had made the request, he didn’t think it was such a big deal. Difficult, definitely, but certainly not something that would garner so much attention.

Thanks for letting me know, Nil, Dallion grumbled mentally. The echo probably knew it from the start! No doubt he’ll come up with some lame excuse once the trial was over—one way or another.

Estezol dragged Dallion to the fourth floor. Stopping in front of one of the doors, the bearded man let Dallion go, straightened up, then gave a quick knock and opened the door. There were over a dozen people in the room. Most Dallion knew in passing, a few of them quite well. Vend was there, along with Spike, and several more elites. Dallion also recognized the crafter from the rescue mission. Judging by her guild emblem on display, the woman was a captain, and she wasn’t the only one; March and Adzorg were also there, as were a few guild lieutenants.

No pressure… Dallion felt his heart jump into his throat.

“Glad that you finally made it, Mister Darude,” Adzorg said in his dismissive tone. “We were beginning to think we got the day of the selection wrong.”

Your humor really sucks, Dallion thought. In this case, though, he couldn’t blame the man.

“You know why we are gathered here, I suppose?”

“To watch me have the selection trial?” Dallion’s voice lacked confidence.

“To observe your progress,” the old man corrected. “Let me be honest. The selection trials are a boring experience. We see the same mistakes made by different people, or sometimes the same people doing them over and over again. When Vend approached us with your…” the captain deliberately paused, giving Vend a glance. “Request, let us say, some of us were intrigued.”

“Vend,” March said, the single word ringing in the room.

Without delay, the elite stepped out of the group and placed a dagger on the single small table in the middle of the room.

“The dagger from your last trial,” Vend clarified. “Your goal is to clear the dagger all the way, fulfilling its destiny. Do that and you’ll receive a mentor from within this room.”

That was an alteration Dallion didn’t remember being discussed. What was Vend trying to say? Dallion had been under the impression that the deal was for Vend to be his mentor. If it was that it would be someone in the room instead, could that mean that a captain might show interest? By the looks of the people at the very least Dallion would get an elite as a mentor… that was provided he managed to pass the trial.

“As you’d expect, we’ll be observing your progress,” the third captain said. Her voice had a motherly ring to it, although strictness and doubt were emanating from her just as much as it was from everyone else. “Don’t worry, there won’t be a crowd of echoes following you around. You won’t even notice us.”

While practical, that wasn’t Dallion’s main concern. The fact that he’d have half of guild management watching and evaluating his every move was stressful enough. It also meant that he couldn’t rely on Nox as much as he wanted, lest that created a bad impression.

“Go ahead.” Vend stepped back. “Focus on the goal,” he whispered. “Don’t worry about the rest.”

Taking a deep breath, Dallion counted to seven, recited all the names of the Moons, then went up to the table and placed his hand on the dagger.

Sphere Item Awakening

The start of level one. This was where Dallion had experienced his first sphere item. Looking at the rectangles, only three of the levels were cleared.

“This brings back memories.”

Dallion reached forward. The harpsiswird appeared in his hand, ready for use. Dallion did a few swings, mostly to get a feeling of the space. The cave was big enough to allow him free swing as long as he kept to the middle of the tunnel. That means he had to be a bit more precise with his actions. Unlike before, Dallion wasn’t going to take a supportive role. This time he was prepared to swing, slash, and use music all at once. After all, the point wasn’t merely to completely clear all five levels. As much as the people denied it, they were watching with the intention of being impressed.

If memory served, the first enemy creatures were Amphibions. As Dallion had found while working as a packrat, they were among the weakest there were in artefacts of this type. Their numbers also weren’t terribly impressive. It wasn’t until the later levels that things would get serious.

“Ready for some action?” Dallion asked the sword. All the strings vibrated in response. “Well, you’ll get plenty of it. We’ll start with a warmup.”

The real first challenge would be the Thunder Leopard. Until then everything Dallion had to do was to be slow and thorough.

“Any of you want to surrender?” Dallion shouted. His voice echoed through the tunnel. Some would say that was overconfidence, and a month ago they would have been right. At present, though, Dallion wasn’t showing off; he was using a trick he had learned from the echo of himself. “I just want to clear the level, there’s no point in killing you off.”

Every sound he made was imbued with dread, doubt, and sadness. From his experience, the phrases were enough to give them second thoughts before attacking. The best thing was that it didn’t matter whether he could see them or not. As long as the sound of his voice managed to reach them, it would plant the seeds of doubt, preparing the Amphbions for the reaping.

“Suit yourselves.” Dallion went on forward.